How I Conquered The Earth
by B. C. Schiele
Summary: Zim gets some help from a fellow student who's had enough of Earth. What will happen if this human succeeds in HIS own evil plans? Chapter 26 & 27 up!
1. A Normal Day At Skool

A/N: I don't own Invader Zim, again, don't sue me! If you sue me, horrific and terrible things of doom will certainly be ensured to befall your doomed selves! Mwuahahahaha! starts choking and coughing I'm better now. Anywaaaaaaaay, I hope you guys like this one. It'll be in third person. Please review. My begging doesn't seem to work, but I'll try it anyway! Also, this was ever so slightly inspired by a concept both discussed in the episode, Bolognius Maximus, and in the story 'Zim: the Dirt Child' by Enigma81. Credit where credit is due my friends.

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Chapter One

A Normal Day At Skool

'Not this again,' Byron thought. The teacher had left the room to beat the fifth student of the day and as usual, Zim and Dib were at each other's respective throats while the rest of the class completely ignored the fact that Zim was shuttering along the ceiling with his spider legs and firing laser blasts at Dib. Byron, although noticing the entire spectacle unfolding before him, wasn't very worried at all. Ever since Dib had tried to stake and decapitate Byron for being a Nosferatu, he had become less and far lesser concerned with Dib's well being. Deep down inside, he was cheering, "Go Zim! Vaporized that stupid bigheaded loser! Go! Go! Go!'

It had seemed like Byron had been forced to suffer these fools these fools for the past six years. He'd entered the local skool when his father transferred from Ireland to work at the secret military testing facility that resides on the outskirts of the city. Despite the strange glowing lights that can clearly be seen every night from dusk to dawn, the bas does NOT exist! He'd arrived about a month before Zim had. And for the next six years had beheld every single thing that Zim and Dib had been involved with from either the back of the class or in conveniently placed shadows. He was the only other person, besides Gaz and Dib, who knew Zim was an alien. He didn't understand how, while a giant hamster is ravaging the city, not a single person can make the mental connection. He figured there must be something in the water.

Byron was pretty tall for a tenth grader, standing a sound six foot two. He'd always sat back with his massive combat boots propped upon an available surface and played with the frayed edges of his brown jacket while watching the two duel for the fate of Earth. In Byron's opinion, Zim could have it! He'd probably make a lot cooler. As far as he was concerned, the world was bollocks.

'I wonder if they have rock bands on Zim's planet,' he thought.

Suddenly, Chunk, the fat, stupid child in the puffy, red jacket said, "Dib, quit acting so damn weird!" Several other students joined in agreement yelling things about being weird, stupid, and having a big head. Byron couldn't help but chuckle at this.

Dib looked up for a brief moment as if to comment on how normal-sized his head was, when he was struck in the shoulder by a laser and catapulted through an open window to the ground, three floors below.

Byron jumped up in his seat and yelled, "Yes!" Everyone in the class, including Zim, looked up at him quizzically. There was a short, but EXTREMELY, awkward silence before Byron responded, " I just realized that Lost is coming on ABC tonight." Since most of the people in the class DID watch Lost religiously, they bought this lame cover and continued damning Dib, which was quite a feat since he was sprawled out in the shrubberies outside.

It wasn't a nano-second after Zim had sat back down in his seat that the teacher, Mr. Clowes walked back into the classroom. He threw his paddle, which was now in two, splintered pieces, on his desk and flopped down in his chair. A few moments later, the student limped through the door and tenderly sat down in his desk.

"That'll teach you to draw in my class! When I say do your math homework, DO IT!" Mr. Clowes howled and slammed his fist down onto his desk. There was a loud snapping sound, and when he brought his hand back up, it was obviously broken.

"But sir, I don't have any homework to do. I just…"

"Do you need some more?" He asked and scooped up the broken paddle with his broken hand. "I can go all day." There was a long and silent pause and then Mr. Clowes said, "Answer me!"

"No, Sir." The kid said and hung his head down in anguish.

"That's it! What did I tell all of you about talking in my class? It's like I'm talking to myself! Come on you little shit!" He motioned at the already beaten student and the two proceeded into the hall.

Suddenly, he stuck his head back in the door and said, "You all better be working when I walk back in here! And I don't want to hear a peep!"

The whole time this was going on, Byron had been drawing on his blue jeans with a pen and as soon as the teacher was out of the room, he looked up from his work and yelled, "PEEP! YOU ARSEHOLE!" While the rest of the room stared at him, he pulled a comic out of his backpack and busied himself with expanding his mind through literature. 'That Johnny cracks me up,' he thought to himself.

A few tense minutes later, the piercing scream of the lunch bell's ringing filled the halls and there was a frantic wave of humanity, with exception to one member of the mob, hurtling toward the cafeteria.

In the lunchroom, Byron sat down at his usual table, the opposite end of Zim's table and looked to see what he'd packed himself for lunch. "Hmm let's see: potted meat sandwich, banana, pudding, and a can of Poop cola. Thanks mom." He said to himself bitterly. His mother was a terrible person. She'd always self-medicated herself with whatever was available, whether it be alcohol, tobacco, or pills, she'd take it. She didn't care for him in the least, not because he was a bad person, quite the contraire, it was because every dime that went to feeding and clothing him was one less dime she had for her needs.

Byron didn't care for his father either. Of course, his father loved him so much, but like most military people, he was rigid and had to have every aspect of his, and his family's, lives governed by rules and regulations. He would consult the handbook for the proper procedure for mounting his frigid wife. And a day didn't go by that Byron wasn't hounded by his father about military service. All this bullshit about success and building character and making yourself a better member of society, he didn't buy it for a moment. More like he'd get his legs blown off or poisoned by an experimental "vaccine"! That wasn't for him. Fuck that.

He looked up from his pathetic meal just in time to see Dib enter the lunchroom; he was covered in leaves and had a large band-aid on his shoulder. He picked up a handful of whatever was for lunch that day. "ZIM! You shall," he paused to cough up a somewhat average sized leaf, "feel the wrath of," he paused to look at today's menu, "Curry Surprise!" Dib raised his hand to the heavens and sent the clump sailing at Zim. I connected with a resounding "SPLAT!" and and Zim fell to the floor screaming in pain.

"I thought it was ketchup and rice day," Byron said.

Dib arched an eyebrow and looked at him. "Shut up vampire! I know your wicked ways of evil and one day, I will catch you! You'll never get my precious, precious blood!"

"Shut up Dib! Just because I have abnormally sharp canines and I'm unusually pale even though I go out in the sun a lot, doesn't make me a vampire! I have a shadow! I blink! I know you're carrying garlic, give it to me and I'll eat it! I am not a vampire." Byron raised his fist at Dib and glared at him menacingly. It would only be a matter of time before Dib tried to stake him again. Most of the kids in the lunchroom snickered, not only because Dib was being stupid, but also because most of them thought Byron's thick Irish accent was very humorous.

That's when Byron got an idea. He looked down at the other end of the table. Zim was just picking himself up from the floor. His face was blistered and his left eye was swollen completely shut. His entire head throbbed with what Byron imagined to be some form of heartbeat. Byron's idea was very simple. He'd use Zim to destroy Dib and anyone else who was on his ever-lengthening shite list.

Byron threw his lunch in the trash and walked over to where Zim was sitting. Zim didn't even notice the tall human approach or sit down in front of him. He had busied himself with a small, electronic writing pad, probably planning some good ole' fashioned doom.

He was rapidly scribbling something in Irken and occasionally scratching at the burnt flesh that adorned his head.

"Hey Zim, what's up?" Byron said, trying not to startle the little green man from beyond the stars. For all he knew, Zim might shoot him right there in the lunchroom. It's not like anyone would have noticed. "Is that your latest plot?"

"Huh?" he looked up from his plotting. "Ahh! What do you want, earth-stink?" He screamed and desperately tried to cover his little note pad.

'Earth-stink? Could he be anymore obvious?' Byron thought. He held up his hands in a non-threatening manner and said, "Dude, just chill. I come in peace." Byron had to laugh at the irony of this statement.

"Peace?" Zim said, stretching out the word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. "I DO NOT NEED peace from you, you pathetic dirt-child! I AM ZIM!" Zim stood up in his seat defiantly and held a tightly clenched fist under Byron's nose. "Now be gone! Be gone before I make you…erm, uh, be gone!"

"Zim, I'd like to be as blunt with you as possible about the nature of my desire to converse with you. I would like to speak with you about a subject that obviously concerns both of us in a rather dire manner," Byron said calmly. "It is pertinent that we ratify this nuisance of a situation before its burden becomes too much for either of us to bear."

"Huh?" Zim arched an eye ridge in a very confused look. "Was that English?"

Byron propped his boots up on the lunch table. "I'm from Ireland." How many times has he had to say that already?

"What planet is that?" Zim asked. How many times has he heard someone say that already? "I've never heard of I-er-lund," he said slowly trying to sound out the word.

"It doesn't matter," he said irritatedly. "Sorry, I tend to use big words. I'll explain," he said leaning across the table just in case someone was listening in. "It's obvious you're an alien, Zim. Like who says calls people 'pig-smellies' or 'worm babies'? And nobody's walked like that since nineteen forty-five! And don't get me started on your skin and eyes; skin condition and pink eye my Irish arse!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Zim said. Suddenly, one of his contact lenses popped out and he frantically snatched it up and popped it back in.

"That's got GERMS on it now," Byron said just so he could watch Zim fidget about in his chair. That was always good for a laugh. "You are so a fucking alien! But, unlike Dib, I don't care. Do what you like with this planet. I don't want it." He then said slowly, "Just remember, I AM NOT A THREAT TO YOU!"

"Hey, I understood that!" Zim said triumphantly. 'I guess they do speak English on

'I-er-lund'!"

Byron slapped himself across the face. How could a being capable of intergalactic space travel be THIS stupid?

Meanwhile, Dib sat with his sister Gaz, the only person who would willingly sit by him, and watched the pair suspiciously.

"I just know that damn nosferatu and Zim are plotting something! I knew it!" He paused and looked at his sister. "Gaz, are you even listening?"

Without even looking up from her Game Slave 4, she said, "No. Now shut up! Make no mistake, Dib, if you choose to test my resolve in this matter, you'll be looking at an outcome that will have a finality that is beyond your comprehension, and you'll not be counting the days or the months or the years, but millenniums in a room with no doors."

"I'm sorry Gaz," Dib wined.

"I know. NOW SHUT THE FUCK UP!" She screamed and continued hammering at her game.

Zim was already looking extremely paranoid, but now, he was on the edge of utter and total panic. "Zim, you need to chill out again. You're not chilling out," Byron said calmly. "WE'RE not the enemies here." He pointed over at Dib, "Our mutual foe is…"

Byron didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before Zim pulled out a strange flashing device and Byron slipped off into sleep. The little Irken reached over and slung Byron over his should. Suddenly, a little green dog with rockets for feet came blasting through the nearest window. Zim climbed on, with Byron still on his shoulder. Zim yelled, "Go, Gir! We shall depart from this place!" The three of them blasted back out the window and into the sky. In they're wake, they left a burnt, half-destroyed lunchroom with hundreds of blackened skool children lying in the floor.

One looked at the other and said, "Damn Dib's head is big!"

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Hope you liked. And for those of you who didn't notice, Gaz says my favorite line from Meet Joe Black. I DID NOT COME UP WITH THAT LINE! Please review!


	2. THE ALLIANCE

A/N: Hey guys, I'm back. So sorry it took so long, but I've been rather ill, and not in the good mental way, either. I'm going to try and keep this story smoothly developing over the next few weeks without any more interruptions. BUT, I make NO promises! Anyway, I would like to give some credit to DarkShadow1818, for without her help, I would still be futilely thrashing about in the death grip of the dreaded WRITER'S BLOCK! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and please tell me what you think of it. I LOVE REVIEWS! I LOVES THEM GOOOOOOOOD!

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Chapter 2

THE ALLIANCE OF DOOM OF THE LITTLE, WAFFLE EATING GREEN MAN FROM BEYOND THE STARS WHO YELLS DRAMATICALLY FOR NO APPARENT REASON TO NO ONE IN PARTICULAR AND THE WEIRD IRISH BOY FROM BEYOND SOUTHHAMPTON!

Byron was awakened by a loud beeping sound that was in rhythm with his heartbeat. He quickly discovered a cold feeling in his lags and the strange taste of cold tacos in his mouth. He opened his eyes to find a distorted, green vision of a strange environment around him. The lab swirled in and out of perspective, along with the little green figure that scurried back and forth. It didn't take Byron long to figure out that Zim had imprisoned him in a large glass tube that was filled with a strange green fluid that he, at present, could successfully respirate in. He floated there, in the tube, watching as Zim busied himself with his countless computers and monitors and calculated who knows what for who knows why. After about twenty minutes of watching this strange display of alien work ethic, Byron attempted, for the second time that day, to speak with Zim.

"Uh, Zim?" Byron said, experiencing slight difficulty in communication due to his lungs being full of fluids.

"Eh?" Zim shrieked and spun around on his heels. "Oh, you're awake. EXCELLENT!" He screamed.

"Yeah, um, could you get me out of here?"

"Why would I want to do that, Earth-stink?" He asked with a rather precious quizzical look on his face. "Since the Dib-beast escaped last time, YOU shall have the great honor of being the first HUMAN to be dissected in the name of Irken scientific advancement! I'll find out just what makes your pathetic, stinking body of MEAT and hair function!" Zim said the 'M-word' with a loud hiss and arched his fist at Byron as he yelled.

'Ah, shite! What have I gone and done now?' Byron thought.

"But, I have a pressing matter to attend to first!"

Just then, Gir ran into Byron's field of sight and screamed, "Master, your waffles are done!" He then busied himself with rolling around on the floor and screeching at the top of what ever he has for lungs.

"Enough, Gir! Guard the prisoner while I claim my waffles! OH, such waffles I shall claim!" He then turned and pointed a claw at Byron. "And when I get back, THE DISSECTION SHALL BEGIN!"

"Um, Zim?"

"WHAT?" He yelled.

"What's that?" Byron asked and pointed toward another tube with a creepy smiling child in it.

"That's Nick. He's UNNATURALLY happy!" He screamed then marched off in a hurried pace toward wherever the waffles were, leaving Byron and Gir all by their lonesomes.

Nick watched Zim march off and yelled, "I LOVE being a prisoner! IT'S GREAT!"

"Yeah," Byron said worriedly. "Hey, Gir," he said with a wave.

"Hey, Byron person! How's the mongooses treating you?"

"Not so good. How about yourself?"

"I can't complain." Gir's tongue stuck out the side of his mouth as he started contently up at Byron.

"Say, could you let me go, Gir? For old times sake?"

"But master said to guard you while he eats his WAFFELS!" Gir said with a sudden jerk of his body.

"He didn'a say I had to stay in the tube," Byron said with a whine.

Gir stood there for a moment before there was a loud popping sound and a small trail of smoke rose from the top of Gir's head. "OKAY!" He yelled and slammed his fist into the control panel, causing sparks to fly across the room.

Zim was upstairs in the kitchen obliviously eating his waffles as Dib continued to intently watched him via his hidden camera as he had done for many weeks, so, fortunately, he did not hear the loud commotion that was occurring down below in the lab.

A siren whaled and the computer announced, "SYSTEM PURGE! SYSTEM PURGE," as the tube rapidly drained and spit Byron out onto the floor. He lay there for a few minutes coughing up green fluid before he was able to speak.

"Thanks Gir."

"Es no problema, señor!" He said with a smile.

"When'd you learn Spanish?" Byron asked.

"¡Yo lo aprendí hace algunos meses cuando trabajé en el taco loco!" He laughed.

"Okay." The pair's linguistics class was quickly interrupted by the approaching sound of boot steps. Byron hurriedly scrambled behind a nearby fuel barrel that was tastefully adorned with the Irken military symbol and watched.

"Gir! Where is the prisoner!"

"Yo no sé!" Gir responded happily.

Byron choked back a laugh and quietly walked from hiding place to hiding place. He reached into his pocket and quickly pulled out his trusty switchblade. Carefully, Byron snuck up behind Zim. 'I hope he doesn't know any commando moves that'll feck this one up.'

The next thing Zim knew, there was a cold blade against his throat and a hot breath on the back of his neck. "Zim, I don't know much about your biology, but I'm sure, at the least, this will be quite painful. So, just relax and I won't hurt you, if you cooperate. No one is going to be dissected this day!"

While this was unfolding, Dib had just abandoned his "waffle cam" and turned on his police scanner. He trudged his way through the messy pile that was his bedroom floor and turned on his computer. After a few minutes, Dib poured himself a hot root beer and logged into The Swollen Eyeball network. It was but a few more minutes before he was regaling Agent Darkbootie with the latest goings-on in the cafeteria with Zim.

"My god, Mothman! And no one noticed this?" Darkbootie asked.

"Not a single one! I'm convinced he's using a sinister mind control device that affects everyone at skool except myself. It must be that my super intelligent brain can resist it." Dib said triumphantly.

"Um, that being the case," Agent Darkbootie said humoringly, "we still need proof that this 'Zim' is actually an extra terrestrial that is bent on world conquest. If you can bring us this proof, you'll have your autopsy and complementary 'I caught an alien' coffee mug."

"Ooh, coffee mug," Dib smiled. His expression then hardened. "I'll get your proof. I'll get it if it's the last thing I ever do!"

"Excellent! Inform me once you have the proof. And you better be for real this time! Agent Darkbootie, signing off."

"Agent Mothman, signing off." Dib said and turned off his computer. He ducked under his bed and reemerged in his ninja garb. "I'll get the proof. It'll be such fantastic, incontrovertible proof, that it'll, um, prove me, ah, forget it. He said and dove out his window in a dramatic fashion only to become tangled in the power lines. "Ahhhhh!" he screamed as fifty thousand volts of grade-a American electricity surged through his body.

Driven by his curious nature, Professor Membrane, along with his ventriloquist dummy pal, Otto, stuck his head in the door to investigate the loud screams coming from upstairs. He watched for a few seconds as Dib was electrocuted and then turned back toward the stairs. "My poor, super-charged, insane son!" He looked down at his little dummy and said, "Isn't that right, Otto?"

"Yes Professor!" It replied in a high-pitched voice. "He's totally insane!"

Meanwhile, back at Zim's impenetrable base of doom, Zim and Byron where still at a total stand off. Gir sat on the sidelines whistling the theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' and Minimoose watched nervously.

"Be calm Minimoose. No need for your nubs of doom. No harm shall befall your master."

**"Squeek!"**

"Of course I'm telling the truth!" Byron said with a twinge almost as though his honor had been impugned

**"Squeek!" **Minimoose responded angrily.

"Fine, Minimoose! I'll do it!" Byron yelled.

By now Zim's heart was pounding and his Squeedly Spooch was churning. He thought to himself nervously, 'Why is it that the only course I missed in the Invader Academy was repelling a hostage taker's knife attack? How humiliating! If anyone on Irk ever found out about this, I'd be a laughing stock. What would happen to my spotless reputation? They'd hate me!'

"Zim, are you listening?" Byron asked.

"Eh?"

"I guess not. I'll repeat myself. As a sign of good favor, I'm going to remove the knife from your neck, but when I do, I want you to stay calm. No attacking me. Alright? I just want to talk to you," Byron said, slightly increasing the pressure of the knife against Zim's throat.

"Alright, stink human, you have my attention, for now!"

Byron released Zim and put his knife back in his pocket. Zim instantly spun around and slapped Byron across the face, which was quite a feat since Zim was about two feet shorter than Byron. "You slark sucking clibsmich! Never do that to me again or I shall **exterminate** you! "Zim howled while holding his slightly bloody neck. "I'd do this time, but I'm an Irken of my word! Now speak. SPEAK FOR ZIM!"

Byron cleared his throat and looked down at Zim. "I want to help you."

"With what?"

"Uh, you know, conquering the world. Destroying the humans. That kind of stuff!"

"I don't know what you're talking about! I'm a normal Earth stink, just like yourself," Zim stated, his antennae standing on end and his ruby eyes flashing angrily.

"Let's not start this game again, Zim! I'm being honest."

"Honest? So am I. I'm a perfectly normal…"

**"Squeek!" **Minimoose challenged.

Zim looked angrily at the floating moose. "Fine, you speak the truth Minimoose. I suppose I could use one more minion," he said and looked at Byron. "What is your name, HUMAN?"

"Uh, it's Byron. I've been in your classes for the past six years and you don't know my name?"

"Of course I do, it's Byron! But that's beyond the point! Even though Minimoose seems to trust you, I DO NOT! You must take the oath of undying loyalty to the great Irken Empire!"

"Fine," Byron huffed.

Zim glared at him and said, "Repeat after me: Velt, deres navn, gjør…"

"I don't speak Irken!" Byron protested.

"I don't care! Just say 'Velt', and then your name!"

"Velt, Byron O'Connor," he said.

"Gjør mijn min udødelig lojalitet til det store intergalactic Irken rike og jeg ærer denne mijn og tjener riket og beskytter riket til død bescherm ejk squeedly spooch! Vagl den Røyeste Red olg Purple! Mag zij regenen voor altijd ovre alle heelal!" Zim said flawlessly. The words danced off of his long tongue and poured beautifully from his mouth. Of course, Byron, not being of good Irken stock, tried his best, miserably.

"What did I just say?" He asked.

"Nothing much, it was just about undying loyalty to the empire and whatnot. Don't worry about it now, it's all said and done. You are now a proud servent of the Irken Empire and a faithful pawn in my BRILLIANT scheme! If you try to desert, I'll kill you," he said with a malicious grin.

"Okay, Zim. Glad to be a part of this."

"If I may ask you, Byron of the planet 'I-er-lund' , why is it you wish to serve the MIGHTY ZIM?"

"I'm sick of this fecking place."

"Good enough! I'll see you tomorrow at school then, Byron. Have a pleasant nocturnal hibernation cycle!" Zim chirped in an almost happy fashion.

"Thanks, Zim."

"Yes. Thank the MIGHTY ZIM!" He screamed.

The rest of the way up to the main house floor, Zim and Byron discussed the theory of "keeping one's voice at a reasonable volume level". Once the elevator reached the ground floor, the pair was greeted to an unpleasant surprise. There in the window, stood Dib. He was intently trying to cut his way through the glass.

Before Zim could react, Byron charged the glass and took Dib by surprise. "I want your blood, Dib! I want it ALL!" He screamed and ran out the door after Dib.

"No, back vampire scum! I have garlic!" Dib yelled and produced a large clove from his bag.

"You would carry that you smelly eedget!" Byron yelled and grabbed the garlic. "Watch this mortal!" He yelled and stuffed it in his mouth. "Blah!"

Dib immediately turned tail and ran home in the grip of unrelenting terror. Byron and Zim both stood in the front yard. Zim was laughing and Byron was gagging on the garlic.

He looked up at Zim and said, while gagging, "Tomorrow, I'll help you revamp the security system. We can't have another uninvited guest showing up while we're in the middle of planning."

Zim nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry about Dib, I'll take care of him."

"You have a plan?" asked Zim.

I'm working on one. I'm working on a MASTER plan," Byron said with his lips twisting into a sinister grin and a pinprick twinkle in his eye that hinted at madness.

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A/N: I hope you like this. It only took me three and a half hours to type. Please, leave me a review, or five. I'd like to know what you think. Especially you, DarkShadow1818, I love hearing from you and hearing your opinions. Also, I think I owe you some translations since many people, including myself, are not bilingual, even though I'll try anything once. lol

Translations:

"Es no problema, señor!"

-- It's no problem, mister!

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"¡Yo lo aprendí hace algunos meses cuando trabajé en el taco loco!"

-- I learned it a few months ago when I worked at the Crazy Taco!

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"Yo no sé!"

-- I don't know!

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"Velt, deres navn, gjør mijn min udødelig lojalitet til det store intergalactic Irken rike og jeg ærer denne mijn og tjener riket og beskytter riket til død bescherm ejk squeedly spooch! Vagl den Røyeste Red olg Purple! Mag zij regenen voor altijd ovre alle heelal!"

-- "I, your name, do pledge my undying loyalty to the great intergalactic Irken Empire and I shall honor this pledge and serve the empire and protect the empire until death does seize my squeedly spooch! Hail Tallest RED and PURPLE! May they rain for all time over all the known universe!"

I hope you like, I worked hard on the Pledge of Undying Loyalty. Feel free yo memorize it. You will be quizzed!


	3. Byron's Big Plan

A/N: Here's the next chapter! But I'm sure you could have figured that out! This one kind of drags a bit. But it's necessary for the advancement of the plot. I promise, this is going to get a WHOLE lot better. Please, tell me what you think and leave a review. I love to here from you all! Thanks.

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Chapter 3

BYRON'S BIG PLAN

Byron walked home in the late evening sun. The tall skyscrapers in the distance cast there shadows down upon the neighborhood as the sun hid behind them like a scared, little bitch. His mind was a raging torrent of thought and plan. He was continually mumbling to himself about percentages, ratios, and chances. Ever so often an audible word, like vengeance or absolute power, would escape his lips and scare anyone within earshot. He had his hands behind his back and fidgeted his fingers together. Suddenly, he halted his bizarre expedition and yelled loudly, "That's it! That's the key!" He laughed rather loudly and bolted at break-neck speed toward his house.

Just as he arrived outside the front door, he paused and carefully opened the door. No doubt his mother was passed out on the couch and Lord him if he were to wake her. He'd received many a beating while his father wasn't there to see. And many a night would Byron lay awake and cry as he fantasized about "offing his dear ole' mum in 'er sleep".

He shook this thought from his head and quietly proceeded up the stairs to his room.

He smiled and looked at the large Irish flag that was tacked up on the outside of his door and walked into his green wallpapered room. Obviously, being from overbearingly military stock, Byron's room was as immaculate as Zim's base. There was a small bed with a green wool blanket tucked over it and a black footlocker at the foot, a small shelving unit of books, and armchair, a TV, and a desk with a computer. His closet doors were wide open and they revealed the flawlessly ironed and hung clothes inside. All in all, it was a nice room, but rather cramped.

He ducked under his bed and pulled out a small boom box and a shoebox. He plugged in his small stereo and opened the box. Inside were about twenty CD's. He thumbed through them for a few minutes before he diced on his favorite one, 'The Dropkick Murphys'. The speakers clicked into life and the wine of bagpipes slowly drifted out of them.

"Face down in the gutter won't admit defeat though his clothes are soiled and black," Byron sang along as he turned on his computer, " He's a big, strong man with a child's mind, don't you take his booze away!"

The computer whirred and grinded for a few moments until it had rebooted. Byron logged in and a large The Swollen Eyeballs' emblem appeared on the screen. This made him smile bemusedly. Then, a small dark figure appeared on his computer screen and answered, "Greetings, Agent Far Liath."

"Greetings, Agent Darkbootie. How goes 'business' wif da' supernatural?" Byron asked cheerfully. Now that he was relaxed and not worried with the outside world, he could let his true accent show. The music continued to lightly pound in the background.

"They what?" He asked.

'Damn this accent!' Byron thought and repeated slowly, "Business with the super natural?"

"Oh! As well as can be expected. Other than,"

"Agent Mothman?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Yes," answered Agent Darkbootie. "How'd you know."

"Call it luck of da' Irish!" He grinned. "Anyway, I decided to go and investigate dis 'Zim' guy he is constantly ranting about and you know what I did find?"

"What? What did you find?"

"I found that he's a normal teenage boy wif a horrible and debilitating skin condition. I feel bad for the fella', I do," Byron lied trying not to let that same grin from earlier retake his face. Sometimes it scared him how well he was able to lie. "Other then the skin, he's as normal a bugger as you an' meself."

"That's what I figured. We won't have to worry about him anymore. We've decided to quit humoring him and…"

From a few houses down, Dib could be heard screaming, "WHAT? NOOOOO! It's cancelled!"

Darkbootie paused and asked, "Who was that screaming?"

Byron chuckled and replied happily, "Jus' da' TV. Isn't'a problem."

"Oh. Well, like I was saying, his membership has been cancelled. We don't need immature skeptics clogging up our administration."

"I couldn't agree more with you Agent Darkbootie."

"Very good, Agent Far Liath. Agent Darkbootie signing off." His face disappeared from the screen.

"Feckless eedget! You bought it like a whore on payday!" he laughed. Byron turned off his computer and opened a drawer in his desk. From out of it he pulled a stack of notebooks each labeled, "Master Plan" and began frantically scribbling down the "key" he had discovered earlier during his walk. Byron returned to his half-minded mubling. Out of the gibberish, like usual, an occasional word would appear. "Scanner" … "Genetics" … "Gaz" and then he finished and wrote down, and underlined, the final part of his idea. **DESTROY DIB!**

Footsteps could be heard approaching outside Byron's door. He stuffed the notebooks back in his desk, turned off his stereo and stuffed it and the shoebox buck under the bed. He then dove into his chair and turned on the TV. All of this he did in less than four seconds.

Suddenly, the door flew open and there stood the mascot for fabric starch, Lieutenant Briggs O'Connor, Byron's father. He didn't look happy.

"Hey, dad," Byron said happily. This was met with a glare and he quickly corrected with, "Hello, sir."

"Son, what's this about you skipping skool today? I got a call from your teacher saying you left during lunch with a boy named Zim. Is this true?" The entire time he spoke, he stood stiff as a board in the doorway. The only things straighter than him were the creases that ran up the legs of his pants.

"Yes, sir," he said. Byron knew better then to try and lie to his father. Last time he tried that, he was locked in his room for the entire weekend without food or lavatory privileges.

"That's what I thought! I want your ass down stairs in ten minutes. No son of mine is going to skip skool. Your old pal 'the leather strap' will be waiting for you."

"Yes, sir." Byron said sadly. He was about to tell his father that he loved him, but when he looked up at the doorway, his father was gone.

A burning hate filled Byron's chest. He'd put up with this for too long. He sprang into action. He'd skip skool if he wanted and he'd be damned if he didn't skip home as well! He quickly threw open his foot locker and dumped it out and began frantically stuffing some clothes, his notebooks, and his boom box and CD's into his duffel bag. He made sure he had everything. He put on his jacket and just before he left, he grabbed his pillow and a blanket, in case he'd have to sleep in the park or something. Then, just before he climbed out the window, he forgot one of his most important possessions. He opened the air vent in the floor and pulled out his little cigar box. He opened and made sure its contents were still safe. Just for good measure, Byron quickly removed the flag from his door and out the window he went. The entire time he did this, he could here his drunk mother screaming about how his father should beat Byron far more often and when he was done could he run down to the corner store for a six pack.

Fortunately for Byron, There was roofing under his window, which allowed him to safely get to the ground without being caught or breaking an ankle. Once he was at street level, he ran as fast as he could run with the forty-pound duffle bag and assorted belongings in his arms. He knew once he was out of range of his house, he'd have to travel by the back yards so the cops wouldn't find him. He knew he wouldn't be able to go back to skool after this. He'd have to be careful; this could make, or break, his master plan. Speaking of which, he paused for a minute and pulled a small notepad out of his back pocket and flipped through page after page of names. Finally, he came to a spot with a few blank spaces. He wrote down, 'Mom and Dad' in the spot and then closed the pad full of names. The cover read, 'Slow and Painful List'. He stuffed it back in his pocket and picked his stuff back up.

Zim walked into the living room and looked at the little robot. "Gir, what are you doing?"

"I'm watching the monkey!" Ye yelled and pointed at the TV.

"Eeeh, THAT monkey!" He said angrily at the TV. "We're going to watch something else Gir," He said and sat down on the couch. "Want a lik-a-maid stick?" He asked and offered Gir an Irken food stick.

"OKAY!" Gir snatched it from Zim's claw and began to hysterically lick it.

"COMPUTER!" Zim yelled.

"What do you want now, Zim?"

"Show me a list of all the movies we've Tivoed!"

"Fine!" Suddenly a long list of films appeared on the TV screen.

Gir looked up from his food and yelled, "Ooh, let's watch the Phibes movie. Let's watch! Let's watch! Let's watch! Let's waaaaaaaaa!"

"FINE, GIR!" Zim yelled and slapped himself across the face. "Computer, play The Abominable Doctor Phibes! Play it IMMEDIATELY!" No sooner had Zim said this that a man in red appeared on the TV and started pounding on a pipe organ.

"YAY! It's Vincent Price!" Gir screamed happily.

"Yes, Gir. I like the creepy human just as much as you, but I …"

Suddenly, there was a knock at the front men's room door. "Eh! Who could it be NOW!" Zim yelled angrily and sprang up from the couch. "Dib-human, if that is you at my door, I'm gonna' lay eggs in your pathetic dirt stomach!" Zim charged the door and threw it open, not to find a cowering Dib, but a laughing Byron.

"YOU'RE gonna' lay eggs in me stomach, are ya'?" Byron said picking his belongings up off the doorstep.

"Eh, Byron! What are you doing here? I said to come back tomorrow! Do you have the brain worms?" Zim said angrily.

"There's been a complication and I don't have anywhere else to go. Come on, I took the oath, remember? I though we're comrades now."

"I know not what a 'comrade' is, but you did take the oath. Come inside my ally," Zim said and stepped out of Byron's way.

He walked inside and threw his stuff in a corner. "Hey, Gir!" He said.

Gir looked away from his movie and yelled, "Hi there!"

Byron smiled and sat down on the couch. "Ooh, you got Dr. Phibes? Cool."

"Cool? It's not cold in here! Zim's base is always at a comfortable temperature!" Zim said.

"No, it's Earth-slang for nice or good. How do you live here for six years and not know what 'cool' means?"

"I'm here for conquest, not for grammar lessons!" Zim paused for a second and then yelled, "COMPUTER! Prepare Byron a living quarters!"

"OKAY, BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU TOLD ME TO DO IT!" There was a loud grinding sound emanating deep within the house and then the computer said, "ALL DONE!"

Byron looked around and hesitantly said, "Thank you, um, computer."

"WOW, HE ACTUALLY THANKED ME! ZIM, YOU NEVER THANK ME! I NEVER GET …"

"SILENCE!" Zim howled. "Come, I'll show you to your room."

It only took a few minutes for the two to take the refrigerator elevator down to the habitation level. There was a short hallway with three doors.

"Your room is on the right. Gir's is at the end of the hall. And mine is right across from yours. Rest well, human," Zim said.

"Good night, Zim."

"Eh?" Zim was, yet again, confused by the human's dialect.

"It's what we say instead of 'rest well'. We say 'good night'."

"Okay. Well then, good night, Byron." Before anything else could be said, Zim marched into his living quarters and slammed the door behind him.

Byron looked at the door to his room. It was, like himself compared to Zim, taller than the door across from it. He walked inside to discover a room that was at least three times the size of his room back home. It had a huge bed, and a everything else he could ever need. The room was littered with furniture, electronics, snack machines, and through another door, was one of the largest bathroom he'd ever seen.

"Cool!" He said and began to unpack his things. "In the morning, I'll begin phase one of my MASTER plan!" He began to laugh. He laughed so long and hard that when he was finished, he dropped down on his bed and instantly fell asleep to dream sweet dreams of DOOM!

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A/N:

© -Dropkick Murphys' "Barroom Hero"

© - The Abominable Doctor Phibes & Vincent Price

I hope you guys like this. Like I said, I'm going to try to keep this going as quickly as possible.


	4. Late Night Calls

A/N: This is going So well! I've never written so many chapters in such a short amount of time! YAY! I've also realized something. The name "Byron" appears quite a lot in the text. So, I got an idea. Get a shot glass and a nice bottle of J&B and have a shot every time you read his name. When you're done, you'll probably leave a VERY interesting review. lol

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Chapter 4

LATE NIGHT CALLS

Byron tossed and turned in a fitful and listless sleep. Even in his sleep, the marvelous plan he was formulating bubbled and rolled in his mind much like an unattended teakettle on a stove that is far too hot. He started awake with a light gasp and sat straight up in his bed. His chest heaved and his hands shook with an almost uncontainable excitement.

His quivering lips pursed and he spoke in a hushed tone to himself, "I must call Tak! She'll be so please with how things are going!" He clapped his hands together in a childish glee and laughed to himself.

Ever since Tak had arrived at skool, Byron had been a close friend of hers. Even though it seemed she had her eyes on Dib, that was just an act. For some reason or another, the two had taken to one another like it was destiny. But I don't believe in destiny, so it was just chance. Even though Byron had known her secret all along, and Tak had known that he'd known, they were still hung out. And to your shock I'm sure, he had a hand in her attempt to conquer the Earth. But we know how that turned out. The day Tak "disappeared" Byron was almost heart-broken. She had been the only friend he'd ever really had and then suddenly, she was gone. But now Byron had access to the technology that could not only find Tak, but to talk to her!

He almost skipped over to the computer in his room. "Computer?" He whispered. "I need to speak with you, but please keep your voice down. I don't want to wake up Zim."

"What?"

"Can you locate the female Irken life form known as Tak?" He openly shook as he stood there and spoke with the computer.

"Scanning." Byron waited with bated breath in the silence of the room while the computer searched the universe for Tak's presence. "Life form found."

"Is she alive?" Byron asked.

"Yes. Would you like to communicate with Tak?"

Had he been Gir at that precise moment, Byron would have exploded into a smoldering, but ecstatic, pile of twisted robot scrap metal. "YES!" He yelled, loosing the control over his voice. He quickly slapped his hand across his mouth. "That would be great. Thank you."

"Your welcome. Connecting." The room was filled with a thick tension, almost like a fog, as he waited for the connection to come through. It felt like forever as the few moments it took were stretched out into eternity.

Suddenly, Tak appeared on the screen. She looked dirty and very disheveled. "What do you want, Zim? Come to gloat. I knew you'd … BYRON?" She gasped.

"Tak! Oh it's so good to see you again! I missed you SO much! … What happened to you?"

And so Tak told Byron of the battle that insured after their failed coup d'état and how she was now stranded in the Vetranda system and there was nothing, at the moment, that Byron could do at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Tak. I thought your plan would work."

"It's not your fault, By," She said. After they became close friends, Tak had taken to calling Byron "By" for short. He didn't necessarily like it, but he didn't hate it either.

"I don't want you to worry about anything else. I'm going to come get you as soon as I can."

"How are you going to pull that one off?" She laughed somewhat bitterly.

"I have a plan. But you're not going to like it."

"Why?"

"Because it involves me helping Zim take over the world," he said and then tensed for the almost guaranteed ass chewing that he'd receive from Tak. But it wasn't meant to be.

"I guess I can live with that. I trust your judgment, By. You'll do what you have to," Tak spoke with a clear sincerity. It would appear that Byron's newfound alliance with Zim didn't bother her quite as much as he'd anticipated.

He could here someone stirring outside his door and he knew if Zim caught him talking to Tak his plan would be ruined. He quickly turned back to the screen and said, "I have to go Tak. I will come for you. And when I do, the first thing I'll say is 'be very quiet, I'm hunting rabbits!' Just trust me. You'll understand when I see you. Bye."

She looked confusedly at him and quickly said, "Bye. I love…" But before she could finish, she was cut off.

Byron sat there shocked and just before the door opened, he said to the computer, "Please, not a word of this to Zim. Okay?"

"Fine!"

"Thanks," Byron said and walked over to the door. He looked out the door to see Gir running up and down the hallway. "Gir, what are you doing up?" He paused for a moment and said, "Right, stupid question. Robots don't have to sleep."

Before Gir could say anything, Byron closed the door and walked over to his duffel bag. He'd forgotten to unpack before he went to sleep. Since insomnia was gripping his mind, he figured now was as good a time as any to "set up shop" as they say. He hanged his clothes on a long wire that seemed to just appear out of nowhere. Probably the computer's doing. He put his shoebox of CD's and his stereo on the desk next to the computer port. And he attached the flag to the wall over his bed.

After all this was done, there was only one thing left; the cigar box. Byron sat down on his bed with the box in his lap and opened it. Inside was a small photo of his father and him spending the day at the beach. He'd been very little when this photo was taken and it was obvious that his father had dressed him. The little boy, no older than three, was dressed up like a little soldier. Looking at this filled Byron with so much hate. It just reminded him of how his father only loved him as long as he did just what HE wanted to do and how his entire childhood and adolescence had just been the time for his father to try to groom him into proverbial meat for the grinder.

He whipped the tears from his eyes and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. He set the picture on fire and tossed it to the floor. "Burn in hell, old man," Byron hissed to himself. After it had finally burned away to a twisted piece of melted plastic, he returned his attention to the box. All that was left inside was an old pocket watch and a few medals that all belonged to his late grandfather and two bags of the finest weed you could possibly get in that particular area of the city.

Byron was a firm supporter of herbal medicine and practiced it with much gusto. He quickly rolled a joint with the graceful expertise of nimble fingers that only comes from years of practice. Then, Byron pulled his lighter out again and set out on a quick journey to expand his mind and calm his nerves.

Meanwhile, in Zim's room, he'd just awakened from his nightly four hours of sustained rest and he decided to go on and update his Tallests on his progress. "COMPUTER! Connect me with the Massive!"

"INCOMING TRANSITION FROM EARTH!"

"Great," sighed Red.

"Tell him I'm not here, I'm sick or something," said Purple.

"Not again! Last time I had to sit here for twenty minutes assuring him that you weren't going to die and that I'd give you his 'get well' wishes. NEVER AGAIN!" Hollered Red. He grabbed Purple by the neck and slammed Purple down on the couch. Just then, Zim came into focus on the main viewing monitor.

"Greetings, my Tallests!" Zim saluted.

"Heeey there, Zim! What are you, uh, doing?" Red said unctuously.

"Yeah, how goes the invasion?" Purple chuckled.

"It goes well my Tallests. And may I say it fills my hearts with UNBEARABLE joy to see you well again my Tallest Purple!" Zim yelled.

"Uh, thank you, Zim. That's very nice," Purple said.

"So, why have you contacted us?" Asked Red.

"I have wonderful news, my Tallests. I have enlisted a new servant to the Empire!" Zim declared happily.

"Oh, that's great Zim. You… YOU DID WHAT?" Red yelled.

"A human has pledged the oath of undying loyalty to you, my Tallests!"

Purple quickly pulled Red out of Zim's hearing range and whispered, "This is great! If he keeps this up, he'll end up getting dissected. We should encourage him!" Red nodded his head in agreement.

They both looked up at Zim and said at the same time, "Excellent. Keep up the good work! Bye!" Red hastily pushed the button and the transmission was ended.

Zim stood there for a moment wonder what had just happened, when an odd smell reached his antennae. He opened his door and walked out into the hallway to investigate. It was a thick smell that reminded him of the time he'd gotten lost in a forest full of pine trees. He opened the door to Byron's quarters to find the smell was coming from there. There was a light haze in the room, but Zim just figured it was something that happens when humans sleep. He quietly walked into the room to find Byron sound asleep in his bed with a large smile on his face.

Then, something caught Zim's attention. There on the desk, lay a stack of notebooks. He picked one up and turned to the page that had been most recently written on. There at the bottom glared the words '**DESTROY DIB!'**. Zim smiled at this and sat the book back down. He looked over the desk and saw a small notepad labeled 'Slow and Painful List'. This Byron-human showed great promise and usefulness. It was now that Zim finalized his decision to trust the human.

He walked over next to Byron's bed and watched him sleep for a few minutes. Zim carefully pulled the sheets up around Byron's neck and tucked him in. Zim smiled and walked to the door. He looked back and whispered, "We're going to achieve great things, you and I. Great things," he then turned and closed the door and headed upstairs.

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A/N: I'd like to make it clear right now, there is going to be ABSOLUTELY NO romance between Byron and Dib. More than likely, ther'll be romance between Byron and Tak. But no promises. That last part was like where Fagin takes a shine to Oliver in Charles Dickens's 'Oliver Twist'; nothing more, nothing less. If you don't know who Dickens is, then your just plain stupid! Just kidding! Anyway, I hope you liked this and please leave a review and tell me what you think! Thank you! Again, I'd like to thank DarkShadow1818 for her support. And I'd also like to thank Ri2, Chickens, and Muh Says The Cow! Thank you all! On another subject, for a friend of mine, the Irken language from a few chapters back consists of Dutch and Portuguese. lol


	5. Leader Of The PAK

Here you go! My latest chapter that I worked kind of hard on. I hope you like it. This one features an actual "cliffhanger" and I'm not talking about Sylvester Stalone!

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Chapter 5

LEADER OF THE PAK

Byron was sound asleep. He'd finally escaped his frantic "plan" dreams and was in the blissful black of impenetrable slumber. It was so nice and quiet. Byron never wanted to leave this place. It was so nice and quiet and… "Byron, get up! It's time to go to that HORRID Earth skool!" Zim yelled into Byron's left ear as loud as he could.

Byron sat up with a great shock. His heart was beating madly in his chest and he was breathing like a mad man. "Zim, didn't I explain that I ran away from home and If I go to skool my parents will catch me and the mission will be compromised?"

"Oh, yeah! I remember," he said trying to sound like he was telling the truth. He quickly marched out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

Byron held his head for a moment. It was pounding from Zim's wake up call. He moved over and let his legs drape over the bed. He got up and walked into the bathroom. He took a piss and got a quick shower. While he was standing there, toweling off, Byron smiled and thought, 'Everything is going so fecking well!' He had Zim's base all to himself for the next nine hours. He could accomplish so much. But first, he'd have to obtain one item that would be key to the advancement of his master plan. "Computer, where are the auxiliary PAK's stored?" He said with a grin.

"SUPPLY LEVEL FOUR!"

"I have decided that for me to help Zim with his mission to the utmost of my abilities, I will require a PAK. Otherwise, I won't have a clue how to fix anything around here," he stated.

"WOW! YOU'VE REALLY THOUGHT THIS ONE OUT, HAVEN'T YOU!"

"What do you mean?"

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO LIE TO ME. I CAN READ YOUR MIND, BYRON. I KNOW EVERY TINY COMPONENT AND FACTOR OF YOUR 'MASTER' PLAN."

"You do?" Byron asked nervously.

"YES. AND MAY I SAY, IT'S SUPERBLY BRILLIANT. I CAN'T BELIEVE A HUMAN THOUGHT THIS UP! IT MUST BE THAT STUFF YOU SMOKE CONSTANTLY!"

"So, you're not going to tell Zim?"

"WHY SHOULD I? HE TREATS ME WITH DISRESPECT AND, AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, THIS WILL NOT IMPEDE HIS MISSION IN THE LEAST. THEREFORE, IT DOESN'T CONCERN HIM."

"Thanks, computer. You're a real standup, uh, computer!"

"NO PROBLEM! SO, YOU WANT TO WALK TO SUPPLY LEVEL FOUR, OR WOULD YOU CARE FOR A LIFT?"

"It'd be greatly appreciated, computer." No sooner had Byron said this, a hole appeared in the floor and he stepped in it.

On the way to supply level four, Byron continued his conversation with the computer. "It's kinda' awkward just calling you 'computer', can I call you by a name? Like Hal?"

Suddenly the elevator grinded to a halt and the computer responded, "YOU ARE NOT CALLING ME HAL! WE ARE NOT TRAPPED IN SPACE ODYSSEY!"

"Well, is there a name I can call you by?" Byron asked.

"LET ME THINK. CALL ME VINCENT."

"Like Vincent Price?"

"NO, JUST VINCENT." It said and the elevator continued down.

"Okay, Vincent." The doors sprang open and Byron stepped into the supply level four. The room seemed to be a stretched out tunnel of purple and pink metal and gray wires that seemed to keep going until you could no longer see down to the end wall. It was filled with boxes, storage cylinders, and machines of varying sizes. All of which were adorned with the Irken Imperial Symbol. "WOW!" Byron said.

"IMPRESSED?"

"Very. So, Vincent, where's the Pak area?" Unexpectedly, a light in the ceiling flashed on and revealed a large section of the room. Byron walked over and had a look at the facilities. There was a large, purple machine standing in front of him. It had two large arms and a few other interesting attachments.

"ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT THIS?" Vincent asked.

"Yes, it's the only way," Byron said. He was shaking both with fear and anticipation.

"OKAY. BUT THIS IS GOING TO HURT LIKE YOU SAY, 'A SON OF A BITCH'!"

"That's fine, just try to make it quick," he said. Suddenly, a small needle came out of the wire ceiling and stuck Byron in the arm. "What was that for?"

"YOU'LL THANK ME LATER." Vincent said. Even as he spoke, Byron could feel his body starting to go numb. He felt like he was floating. Right before he fell on his face, a metal tentacle swooped down and grabbed him. It raised him into the air and gently sat him down on the machine. Byron tried to say something but could only make gurgling sounds.

"HERE GOES." Vincent said and the machine roared into operation. A PAK was loaded into the main capacitor and all the basic information was loaded into it. Just as Vincent had seen in Byron's mind, the Pak was devoid of a personality or name so he could keep his own. Other than that, it was a fully functioning, black and blue PAK. It would serve him just as Zim's served, uh, Zim.

Then the cold, unfeeling robot arm pitched down with it's two spikes and burned two holes in Byron's back all the way into his spinal chord. I wasn't until he smelled the burning flesh that the pain registered in his mind. Superior Irken sedative and pain killer aside, it hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt before. For once in the history of mankind, a male experienced a pain far greater than childbirth! He screamed a loud and gut wrenching scream that echoed up though out Zim's base. Up in the living room, Gir looked up from his choco-taco ice cream in fear.

Then as soon as the holes had been burned, the PAK was lowered onto his back and the cables made their connection. Instantly the pain dissipated and his head shot up with a snap. He suddenly felt so ALIVE! He'd never felt like this before. He grinned and then the PAK responded, "ACTIVATE!" and fifty thousand volts of electricity coursed through his body. This, of course, whipped the smile of his face.

As soon as the smoke clear, and the abundant smell of charred flesh, cleared the air, Byron arose triumphantly and proclaimed, "That wasn't so bad!"

Another tentacle came down from the ceiling and slapped him across the face. It then inserted in his PAK. "PREPARE TO BE FILLED WITH THE WHOLE OF IRKEN KNOWLEDGE!" Vincent said. Byron then went limp as he temporarily shut down and the upload began. His body spasmed and shook for a good thirty seconds before the process was complete.

Byron then opened his eyes and said, "Cool, I finally understand calculus!"

"CALCULUS? OUT OF EVERYTHING YOU NOW KNOW, YOU'RE EXCITED ABOUT CALCULUS?" Vincent said.

"Yeah! That shite's hard a hell! But now is not the time to debate the complexities of higher mathematics, Vincent! For now we have much work to do! Please, take me to the main security system control area … thingy," Byron said.

"SURE THING, BYRON!" And with that, Byron disappeared into the elevator.

While Byron was quickly advancing in his MASTER plan, Zim was sitting in first period waiting for his chance to through Dib out another window. He knew his chance would come soon; very soon.

The day progress rather slowly for Zim. For some odd reason, Dib didn't seem himself today. It was like he didn't have the will to fight. Unbeknownst to Zim, Dib was rather depressed since his expulsion from The Swollen Eyeballs. So, with the proverbial fight temporarily absent from Dib, Zim was forced to sit and listen to each period's lesson. By three he was almost mad with boredom. He'd never come back to school if Dib continued on this trend. The second the bell rang; Zim was the first one out the window. He began to briskly walk home. Then he remembered his houseguest and decided to pick up the pace. He ran the rest of the way home. He almost expected the entire base to be in flaming ruins with a large flag stuck in the ground that read, 'Hooray for Earth!', but it was far worse!

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A/N: Oh no! There it is, my first real cliffhanger! (Not like you'll have to wait long for the answer to it!) I hope you liked this chapter. Sorry to say, this one also kind of dragged in my opinion. It's all just helping to progress to the good part. I promise, I have BIG plans for this story! Oh, such plans I have! Please leave me a review. Or just email me, I crave communication and social interaction! Thanks!


	6. A Welcome Home Present

Chapter 6

A WELCOME-HOME PRESENT

Zim was aghast with horror at what stood before him. Like some Biblical plague, his base was no more. In its place was a nicely decorated two story, Colonial home. The outside walls were a powder blue with white trim. Every few feet there would be a lovely pair of white windows with green curtains inside. The horror didn't end there. On either side of the little dirt path that lead up to the red front door, in the expertly trimmed green front lawn stood two large oak trees and a little sign that said 'Keep off the grass'.

Zim could not believe his eyes. He was so shocked that his contact lenses fell out of their respective places. His beautiful, green home was gone. There were no more lawn gnomes. There were no more pink flamingos. It was all gone. His once proud monument to the superiority of Irken camouflage was now reduced to, to...SUBURBIA! This would not stand!

"What has he done to my base? It is HIDEOUS!" Zim screamed and stormed forward to the little gate in the white picket fence. He raised his mighty, black boot of doom and gavethe tiny gatea good, firm kick, but the gate refused to relent. It didn't even shudder. Zim quickly picked himself up off the ground before any of the neighbors noticed him sprawled out on the sidewalk. He raised his fist defiantly and screamed, "Curse you, gate! Why do you appose the might of ZIM!"

Suddenly the mailbox opened and a small probe emerged from it. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF INTRUDER!"

Zim could not believe this. That treacherous human had stolen, and deformed, his mighty base. "I AM ZIM! Let me in immediately! I COMMAND YOU!" He shrieked.

"PROCESSING," declared the mailbox.

Another tentacle launched out and poked Zim in the arm. "Ow!" he said in painful protest.

"DNA CODE ACCEPTED! WELCOME, INVADER ZIM!" The front gate swung open without even the smallest squeak and Zim quickly proceeded to the front door and threw it open. Two, very life-like, humans greeted Zim at the door, "WELCOME HOME, SON! HOW WAS SCHOOL?"

Zim shrank back in fear. Not only had the human invaded his home, but he'd also brought reinforcements! Then, as soon as they'd appeared, the pair faded into nothing and revealed two hologram transmitters in the floor. Zim, boiling with rage, continued on his odyssey to enter his house. Once inside, he had a good look around. He didn't like what he saw. It appeared to be a normal, human's home. Placed here and there were such things as coffee tables, carpets, and STAIRS! It was quite bizarre and disconcerting.

Zim heard a clattering sound and turned to see Gir hiding in the corner. At least, it looked like Gir. It Was Gir. No, it couldn't be. This THING had yellow eyes and coloring. It moved as silent as death. And it seemed like it was intent on ripping out Zim's Squeedly spooch. Then, right before it was upon Zim, it stopped and saluted. "GREETINGS, MY MASTER! HOW MAY I BE OF SERVICE?"

This was far too much for poor, little Zim to handle. He collapsed to his knees, long drop that is, and grabbed the sides of his head. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Byron, what have you done to MY base? What have you done to GIR?"

"Do ya' like it?" A voice seemed to resound from nowhere.

"Ah! Byron, why have you done this? How did you get in the computer?" Zim said as he quickly melted down into total panic.

"What would give you THAT idea, Zim?" Byron asked as he descended the stairs. Something was off, though. It might have been the fact that Byron was smeared with dirt and engine grease. It may have been that his eyebrows were singed off. But I think it was the set of spider legs protruding from his PAK with which he was descending the stairs. Zim just stared at this spectacle. His mouth hung wide open. "Ya' like what I done wif da' place, Zim?"

Zim stood there for a few moments deeply considering what his response would be. He wanted it to be direct and carefully planned out. He finally responded with, "What the fuck's all this! How'd you get a Pak!"

Byron looked at him with a smile. "I needed one to help you with your mission. The computer hooked me up with it. You have a very nice computer, by the way. And 'this'," he said and motioned to the house and robot, "is the product of five hours of hard work. Isn't it glorious? A 'ting of beauty and joy forever'!" he laughed.

"I didn't authorize you to get a PAK!" Zim yelled.

"You didn't 'not' authorize it either," he retorted.

"Fine! But what have you done to GIR?" He asked angrily. The little SIR unit had stood silently at Zim's feet for the entire conversation.

"That aint' Gir! He's down below playing with Pig and Minimoose. That's LU, You're new SIR," Byron said and pointed at the yellow robot. "Did you know GIR was defective? I know I didn't. All he had in his head was some pocket change and a gumball. I couldn't bear to alter him, so I built a new one. And I programmed him meself. Like a true Irishman, ole' LU there loves a fight!" he said with a laugh.

"This is what you've done all day; wreck my home and build robots?" Zim asked.

"No! I made your house blend in better. It'll attract less attention. Trust me. And I fixed the security system too."

"What, so it'll ask your name before it lets you in?" Zim replied.

"No, it recognizes DNA from a list of welcome life forms. Watch this," Byron said and reached into his pocket. He pulled out an acorn.

"You're going to protect the base with an acorn?"

Byron didn't answer. He simply tossed the acorn into the yard and looked out the window. In no time at all, a little squirrel scuttled into the yard and picked up the acorn. It sat there for no more than three seconds before a laser popped out of one of the trees and obliterated the cute, little squirrel. There was just a black, smoking crater in the yard where the rodent had been. Then, the crater was overtaken by fresh grass and any evidence that there was ever anything there was gone.

Needless to say, Zim was both pleased and impressed. He turned his attention back to Byron, LU, and the inside of the house. He had fixed everything. This human wasn't just helping, he was HELPING! "So, what's your plan on Dib?" Byron grinned that eerie grin of his.

Dib was sitting on his bed, staring out the window. Since he'd gotten news of his expulsion, Dib had not spoken to anyone or had anything to eat. He just sat around and thought to himself. Gaz would have been worried, if this had been the first time Dib had been kicked out of The Swollen Eyeballs. He got up from his bed and looked out the window. He grabbed his telescope and looked toward the east. Then, he saw something that surprised him. In the place where Zim's crooked, green house usually stood, resided a lovely blue home.

"What's this?" He said to himself. "Has Zim finally left the planet? Is it over? NO, it can't be over. I must catch him; not for humanity, but for my due respect in the paranormal community!" He continued. Then, he franticly pointed his crooked finger toward the house and yelled, "I'll make my career by you, Zim! If it's the last thin I ever do!"

"Shut up!" Gaz yelled.

Down in the street a mother and her daughter passed the Membrane household. "Mommy, why is that big-headed boy yelling?"

"Don't make eye contact with him, Maggie! He's eat up with the crazy!" The mother yelled and grabbed up her daughter and began to dash, as best she could in heels, down the way.

Meanwhile, Zim and Byron were sitting at the dinner table discussing plans while LU worked on dinner in the kitchen. "I already tried altering his DNA, Byron! It wore off after forty-eight hours. It's no good!" Zim declared and slammed his fist on the table.

Byron smiled. "What if I were to tell you that I solved that problem? What if I said, 'it could be a permanent mutation'? What then?"

"Then I'd say, 'How did you do that?'," he said. Zim was amused at best. He didn't think Byron was capable of such a scientific breakthrough.

"I had some free time."

"But you said you'd done all of this," he motions with his arms to the house.

"I did, I mean, we did; me and your computer. But even with all that, it only took so long. And there wasn't anything good on the TV!" Byron joked.

Zim answered, "Hmm, well, I have to say, this is a very good plan! Of course, not as good as any of MY plans,"

"Of, course," Byron said.

"BUT, I like it and we'll give it a try. If it works, then you are truly worthy to serve Irk. But fail me and you shall rue the day you failed ZIM!" He yelled.

"Don't worry, it'll work," Byron assured Zim. "Ah, here's dinner!"

Just then, Lu walked in with two plates. He sat Byron's plate down first and said, "Your haggis, Sir."

"Thank you, LU," Byron said.

Zim looked absolutely disgusted and slightly greener than usual. "What is that?"

"It's a haggis. Notional dish of Scotland it is!" he laughed.

"But you're Irish!"

"That doesn't stop me from enjoying it," he chuckled.

"What is it?" Zim asked.

"You don't want to know."

By this point, LU had walked to the other side of the table and sat down Zim's plate. It was equally stomach turning. "Your roasted Xelgrog, Sir."

Byron looked at the twisted, red form on Zim's plate. "What is that?"

"You don't want to know," Zim said.

So dinner progressed on and the two talked of this and that. Zim regaled him with past experiences in his "prestigious" life. And Byron told him dirty jokes and about the time he set the men's room at his dad's base on fire. They both laughed at this and then there was an awkward silence. They both looked at each other with a hesitant stare. Then, suddenly, the both spoke at the same time, "Can I try that?" They each pointed at the other's plate. They exchanged plates and each took a bite of the food in front of them. They then went to their respective corners and vomited.

While LU cleaned up the mess, the two went down into Zim's labs, which were fortunately unchanged, and Byron showed him the test results. The formula had successfully turned a chicken into the largest potato anyone has ever seen. Being Irish, of course Byron turned it into a potato.

"This is fantastic! Let's go get the little stink weasel, Dib! We shall turn him into a… POTATO OF DOOM!" Zim howled.

"No, Zim. Remember the plan! We must get him tomorrow, when he least expects it, " Byron said and placed his hand on Zim's shoulder.

"Ow!" Zim said and drew back from Byron's hand. "That hurt!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Zim, I must have nicked you by accident. Sorry." Byron said sincerely.

"As long as it was an accident," Zim said. "So, what do we do now?"

"Wanna' go see a movie?" Byron asked.

"Upstairs?" The alien asked.

"No at the theatre! You've been to a theatre before, haven't ya'?" Byron asked.

"No."

"Well come on then! I'm gonna' introduce you to the fine and cultured world of cinema!" he declared happily.

"Will it hurt?" Zim asked.

"No, of course not," Byron laughed.

The two proceeded to the elevator and just before the doors closed, Byron said, "Oh, I forgot my jacket! I'll be right up!" He jumped out of the elevator and before Zim could protest, the doors slammed in his face.

Byron quickly ran over to the main computer and popped out a small, glass dish. He then scrapped under his fingernail and removed the little piece of green skin he gotten off of Zim. I stuck in the dish and then popped that into the computer. He madly began typing something into the machine and looked up at the screen. As soon as the message, 'SYNTHESIZING,' appeared on the monitor, Byron grabbed his jacket and ran to the next available elevator.

As it ascended toward the surface, the machine began to whir and grind. A small beaker at one end of the machine had started to fill with a strange, green fluid.

"WELL DONE, BYRON." Vincent said cheerfully during the elevator ride.

"Thank you, Vincent. You're very kind. You'll be sure to see that there's no flaws in the serum? I don't want the subject to be an exact clone of Zim. All we need is one," he laughed.

"DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. I KNOW JUST WHAT YOU WANT DONE WITH THIS. HAVE FUN AT THE MOVIE," it said and the doors opened.

"Thanks, Vincent."

"Vincent?" Zim asked.

"Yeah, that's what I've been calling your computer," he said as he opened the door and they both walked out.

"Oh," Zim answered. His curiosity satisfied for the moment.

Yet again, Byron had avoided Zim's suspicion and the two were off to the movies. Neither of them noticed the shadow with a freakishly large head and bad hair that seemed to fallow them all the way to the movies.

A/N: Oooh! What's he up to now! (Like some people don't know!) Hahaha! I hope you liked this chapter as much as I like typing it. Actually, I hope you liked it more than that. Maybe you'll leave a review! Anyway, for anyone who's curious, "Haggis" is a boiled sheep's stomach that's stuffed with the heart, lungs, liver, fat, and onions. I've never had it. lol Please leave a review! Please! I'm BEGGING you! See me beg?


	7. A Trip To The Picture Show

A/N: Hello everybody! I finally finished the next chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it so much that your heads explode. Well, not quite that much. Then you wouldn't be able to leave reviews. Anyway, get ready for some fun. Byron's taking Zim to the movies to take his mind off what he did to his base today. Yay!

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Chapter 7

A TRIP TO THE PICTURE SHOW

The streetlights were just beginning to turn on when Byron and Zim arrived at the movie theatre. It was a colossal building covered in bright lights that cast such a shine on the street that it seemed like mid-afternoon. There were three ticket booths outside. Only one was open. Needless to say, the line that had formed on that cloudy Friday evening was unfathomably LONG.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Zim asked.

Byron smiled and motioned for him to follow. "We're taking the VIP entrance, Zim." They walked into an alley that wrapped around the building. Byron came to a door marked, 'STAFF ENTRANCE' and tried the handle. "They always lock 'em, Zim."

Byron reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife that Zim knew all to well and began to pick the lock. A few seconds later, there was a satisfying '**click**' sound and the door opened. "Come on, Zim, before the flick starts!"

"I'm coming," he said hurriedly and the two began to search the winding halls for the correct theatre.

"Ah, here it is!" Byron stated looking up at the marquee. "Revenge of Doom of the Zombie Cheerleader Massacre From Outer Space 7 in 3-D! Hell yes!" he kicked open the door and they walked in. The theatre was almost completely empty, which was strange seeing how long the line was outside. "Hmm, I guess everybody else is going to see that new teen coming-of-age bullshit." Byron said angrily. "Oh, well, more room for us."

Zim, being new to the concept of movie going, stayed surprisingly quiet. Just as the two took their seats, the film started. Or should I say, the twenty minutes of gay movie trivia, and commercials, not trailers, commercials started. "Hey, Zim. I'm gonna' run to the bathroom before this starts, you want me to get ya' anything from the snack counter on the way back?"

"Ha! Pathetic human and your, 'BA-TH-ROOM'! I laugh ... Ooh, snacks?" Zim said happily. Normally, only the Almighty Tallests were allowed the privilege of snacks. He couldn't resist. "I'll go while you 'go'," he said.

Byron laughed and started walking down the hall toward the bathroom while Zim almost skipped toward the snack counter. Things seemed to be going well for Byron. His plan was falling into place beautifully and not a single creepy guy had stared at him while he used the urinal. Then, as if a cosmic force sensed his happiness, there was the loud squeak of an opening stall door behind Byron and a VERY familiar voice.

"So, vampire scum, you're in league with the alien now?" It was Dib, and of course, Dib's huge head!

Byron spun around just in time to come face to face with the annoying boy with the large head. "My grandma, what a big head you have!"

"My head IS NOT BIG!" Dib yelled and angrily tried to shake some 'water' off of his boots.

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

Meanwhile, Zim had finally gotten his snacks, but it had been quite a hustle, though. The "candy drone", as Zim called her, was a steely-eyed little bitch with an attitude problem. Zim had become enraged that she refused to take his Irken monies.

"Nice try kid," she'd said, "we don't take Monopoly money." This only made Zim angrier.

"How dare you impugn the MIGHTY currency of the Irken Empire! Now give me the snacks!" He yelled and thrust his fist into the air. People started to stop and stare at the weird, green child with the anger management problem.

"No way kid! Now beat it!" She said agitatedly and continued to do her nails.

"You shall rue the day you crossed Zim! For I am ZIM and YOU shall taste my wrath! Taste it!" He screamed and activated his time disruption cuff. Suddenly, time stopped and Zim happily began to loot the snack bar. Once he'd pillaged to his heart's content, he threw everything into a large sack he pulled from his PAK. Then, just for good measure, replaced the snack girl's brain with a package of Twizlers. He walked down the hall back to the theatre and reactivated the time stream.

"Yes it is!" Byron continued.

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's … enough!" Dib screamed and balled up his fists in anger. This was the fifth time he'd had this argument with someone today. "I know what you're doing and you won't get away with it!"

'How cliché was that statement?' Byron thought and quirked an eyebrow, "Oh, really? Then do tell. Stupefy me with you're amazing skills of telepathic espionage! 'Pick my brain', as they say." He chuckled.

"What?" Dib said confusedly.

'Oh, yeah, I used big words again. Is everybody around here stupid?' He thought. "Just tell me."

"You're going to turn the entire population of Earth into vampires and then…"

"Wrong! Try again."

"Um, you're going to, um. That's about all I had," Dib admitted dejectedly. For a genius, he WAS pretty stupid.

"Must not be too much in that ENORMOUS head of yours, if that's the best you can do!" Byron laughed in a cruel manner. His blood was pumping as he thought about what fate awaited Dib once the sun rose tomorrow morning.

"It's not that big!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

Zim sat in his seat waiting Byron to return. His bulging bag of candy was in the seat next to him and his Mega Gulp of diet Poop cola was firmly grasped in his hand. "Stupid human trivia! I t does not concern the mighty ZIM if this 'Kevin Bacon' can be tied to anyone in six steps or less!" He declared defiantly at the screen. "Where could Byron be?" he thought and took a sip of the cola. He then spit it out and began to scream as smoke poured out of his mouth, "This has WATER in it!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

Then, in a flash of unimaginable speed, Byron had pinned Dib against a wall and had his knife to his throat. "Dib, I don't have time for this! My movie is about to start and I don't trust Zim to be by himself during a slasher film! Now, GO HOME! You'll know my plan soon enough! Understand?" He spoke with cold venom in his voice. Hatred poured from his squinting eyes as his sneering teeth glistened in the fluorescent lighting. Had Dib of not just used the bathroom, he would have pissed himself.

"Okay." Dib said. And began to run toward the door.

"Wait," Byron said, "just to make sure you remember this conversation." Byron grabbed Dib by the back of his collar and, again with that same frightening speed, gave Dib the worst "swirly" he'd ever had in his life. Trust me, he's had plenty before. He's like a connoisseur of "swirlies!

Byron reached into Dib's coat pocket and pulled out, surprise, a clove of garlic. Over the years, Byron had grown fond of them. "I knew you'd have this," he said and bit into it like an apple. "See you around, Dib!" He laughed and left the boy with the large head to think about what they'd discussed.

"Jerk!" He mumbled.

What took you so long?" Zim asked. "The movie's already started and the PATHETIC humans are being eaten alive," Zim said joyously.

"Had some trouble with the plumbing," Byron said and sat down next to Zim. He reached into Zim's bag of snacks and grabbed a couple of candy bars. He looked at Zim's soda and asked, "You gonna' drink that?"

"No!" Zim answered angrily.

After the movie was over, the two left. Zim was ecstatic. The film was one of the most amazing things he'd ever seen. Byron, on the other hand, was rather bored.

"That was great when she bit off his head. His ENTIRE head!" Zim cheered.

"Yeah, I guess."

Once they got outside, the nerdy kid in the ticket booth saw them and said, "Hey, you guys didn't buy tickets!"

"So?" Byron said.

"SILENCE, ticket slave! We are not your concern! Go about your business or you shall end up like her!" He yelled and pointed at the girl behind the snack counter who was still doing her nails. "Hmm, I thought that would have a greater effect than that."

Suddenly, there was a loud rumble in the sky and something landed on Zim's face. It was cold at first, but then it became hot. Then it began to burn. "Ahh! It's raining!" People began to stare, yet again, at Zim. "I have a skin condition!" He yelled and everybody looked away hurriedly.

"Zim, wait inside. I'll be right back," Byron said. Zim complied and no more than forty seconds later, Byron pulled up in a large car with the driver side window busted out. "Get in," he said and opened the passenger side door.

Zim dramatically ran and dove into the car. He closed the door and looked at the mess of sparking wires under the steering wheel. "Is this you vehicle?"

"Nope."

After about an hour-and-a-half's worth of reckless joyriding and playing chicken with anyone foolish enough to be out on the road, the two headed home for the night.

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A/N: That was pretty fun, eh? Hope you enjoyed this. It's all about to get REALLY good from here! Please leave a review. PLEASE!

© - Twizlers


	8. The Beggining Of The End For Dib

A/N: I had an idea for this chapter and, as you can see, it has an intro by an author who is almost as talented as myself! lol

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… _as men busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacency men went to and fro over this globe about their little affairs, serene in their assurance of their empire over matter. It is possible that the infusoria under the microscope do the same. _

… _minds that are to our minds as ours are to those of the beasts that perish, intellects vast and cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. _

H. G. Well 'War of the Worlds'

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Chapter 8

THE BEGINNING OF THE END … FOR DIB

It had been a hell of a night. After their escapades in the stolen car, Zim and Byron had broken into a liquor store. Zim discovered that alcohol is one of the only human beverages that doesn't burn him and Byron got totally shit faced. The two had made it home around four in the morning and Zim had immediately fallen off to sleep. Byron, even through the haze of good liquor and spirits, could not sleep. He was far to excited about what the day held.

Dib, on the other hand, had had an extremely dull and uneventful night, that is, after he escaped the wrath of Byron and his swirlies of doom. He ran the entire way home. Something in the back of his mind telling him to keep going. Telling him it wasn't safe and Byron was still behind him. He'd only stopped when the front door had slammed shut behind him.

He'd gone into the kitchen and raided the fridge. Every few seconds, he'd look around the room, not for Gaz, but for Byron. He'd changed since the last time he'd seen him at skool. He carried himself differently. He seemed very tense and on edge. And he carried himself in an unnatural manner. Something was off. There was something in his eyes earlier that he'd never seen before. No one else seemed to notice it, but Dib obsereved that every few seconds, Byrons left eye would twitch uncontrollably. It gave him chills inside. "He's gone mad," he mumbled to himself. "That's the only reason he's sided with that alien scum. He's gone completely around the bend and is convinced that he must destroy us! I must …" he was interrupted by a voice from upstairs.

"Son, it's far too late at night to be yelling about the end of the world and your silly, big-headed notions of false sciences!" Professor Membrane called from the top of the stairs.

"Sorry, dad!" He called back. Then he whispered, "But I vow, I will destroy them both! For my sake and humanity's! Why am I talking to myself?" he asked himself and continued digging in the fridge.

It wasn't until he was upstairs, safely locked in his room with his slice of cold pizza and a can of Poop cola, that he relaxed. He ate his dinner and began his attempt at forming a plan.

He fell asleep on his desk and woke up the next morning in a puddle of pizza-flavored drool. When he opened his eyes, he looked over at his digital clock. It was twelve fifteen in the afternoon. Dib sighed. Being a complete and total loser with absolutely no friends, Dib didn't really have much to do on a Saturday, especially since he'd slept well past the time when the good cartoons would come on. He got up from his desk and went to use the bathroom. When he got back, he turned on his scanner and turned on his computer.

He wasted a good two-and-a-half hours browsing around UFO websites and participating in alien chartrooms, when something came over the scanner that caught his attention.

"Three Hal five, what's your twenty?" A female said.

"We are out at the old Higgins farm investigation a ten fifty-eight, over," a man responded.

"Copy that. What's the situation on that?"

"Looks like some kids pulling a prank. They swear they say Bigfoot. Little bastards said he was using their belt sander. We're bringing 'em in for reeducation, over."

"Huh!" Dib perked his head up. "A bigfoot! Finally! If I can't catch Zim because of his Irish robot bodyguard, then I'll catch Bigfoot. The Swollen Eyeballs will beg me to come back!" He cheered happily and ran to his closet. He dug around for a few minutes until he came out of the closet (Haha! Came out of the closet!) with an oversized fishing net and a trank gun.

He came barreling down the stairs and out the front door yelling, "I'll be back later. I'm going to catch Bigfoot!"

"Not again," Gaz said without looking up from her Game Slave.

A few minutes after the door slammed, Gaz got up and walked into the kitchen, still expertly playing her game. She opened the fridge and saw that, as usual, Dib had eaten her pizza and stolen her Poop cola. "That's it! Forces of darkness, hear my pledge! I'm not letting it go this time. No matter what it takes, Dib will pay for this dearly. I'll do anything! Please, send me a message or a sign! Send me a vessel of destruction and devastation!" As if on cue, there was a loud knock on the door. Gaz walked back into the living room and threw the door open with a sigh. "What did you forget, Dib?" She asked looking out the door, not to find Dib, but to see someone else. Someone she'd seen a few times before at skool. She looked up to see, in the stifling silence of the surrounding neighborhood, two narrow and beady eyes, one twitching, staring back at her from a face that was hideously contorted into what she thought was meant to be a smile. The thing just looked at her and she looked back. It was a mess. Its clothes were worn and stained as if they hadn't been change in a few days. And on the top of the thing's head was a twisted mass of greasy and stringy hair. The last thing she noticed about the thing's appearance was its complete and total lack of eyebrows. It was as if they'd been singed off. The thing's chest rose and fell in quivering, fevered breaths as it stood stiff as a board, but shaking like a leaf, at her doorstep.

"Hello, Gaz," said Byron with a wide and vicious grin as he ran a trembling hand through his filthy hair. "I'd like to discuss something with you." She grinned back with a look of understanding and a smile almost equal to Byron's. Without hesitation, Gaz stepped to the side of the doorway and allowed him entrance into the house. The door creaked shut behind him and the neighborhood was again plunged into silence.

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A/N: Ooh, I actually impressed myself! I think this is my best work of fiction to date. But I mean that in the most humble way possible! I am SO pleased with the second-to-last paragraph! I hope you all feel as I do. Please leave a review if you even slightly like it. I appreciate them so much, and if you ask those who have reviewed me in the past, I send them emails thanking them. How many people do you know who actually do that? And, a special message to DarkShadow1818, what I hope will be your favorite part is coming soon. I'm sure it'll happen within the next three chapters. And at the pace I'm going, that could be five minutes from now. lol


	9. Field Of Nightmares

Chapter 9

FIELD OF NIGHTMARES

While Byron's foul deeds were being executed at his house, Dib was obliviously wandering around in a field near the old Higgins place scouring the tree line for Bigfoot. His net in one hand, the trank gun in the other.

It was a beautiful day. No, it was a perfect day, unlike any other that your humble narrator has ever had the privilege to see. The sun was shining high in the sky without a cloud in sight. Birds flew by and sang a happy summer song. The air was fresh and a cool breeze danced across the wheat fields causing them to sway and rock like waves in an ocean. In the distance, Dib could see the large, red barn, the little, blue farmhouse, and silos. The house's tin roof glimmered in the sun like a candle in the wind.

The apple trees that lined the dirt driveway by the old, wooden fence were heavily drooping with their red, sweet fruits. The little, clear-crystal stream that ran along the edge of the property was teeming with life. Small, silver fish swam along carelessly as the beavers and raccoons danced together on the banks. The squirrels were hard at work gathering acorns and mixed nuts for the approaching winter. They still had plenty of time for gathering but why dodle? It is best to be prepared. Up on a hilltop that rose up out of the forest, stood a proud family of moose. These animals gave Dib a quiet shudder as he remembered what could have been had he not escaped the wormhole. Oh, what it did to those innocent walnuts!

The entire scene was a glorious and splendid sight to take in. It was a landscape or panoramic view that was befitting of an Old Dutch Master. Unfortunately, there weren't any Old Dutch Masters to be found since they're all dead. Every one of them was dead, all dead, dead and gone, dead and buried, but anyway. THEY WERE DEAD!

Despite the awe-inspiring glory of flora and fauna around him, Dib was more concerned about the possible capture of Bigfoot and the fame and respect it would earn him. Besides, nature was stupid! Dib hastily paced up and down the edge of the field and looked behind trees. He was desperately trying to spot the furry beast. Unknown to him, another type of beast was keenly watching him from the safety of a bush. Dib pulled up his binoculars and tried to spy deeper into the forest. This was getting bothersome and he knew if something didn't happen soon, he'd have to go home. He knew what was waiting for him at home. Probably right now, at this very moment, Gaz was evoking the forces of darkness to avenge the loss of her pizza and cola.

"Bigfoot, I know you're here! Come out now! I can smell you!" He yelled and looked under a log.

"As I can smell you, Dib," came a voice from behind.

"Bigfoot, is that really you!" He asked eagerly. The he yelled and vindictively shook his fist, "I want my belt sander back you hairy, smelly piece of…"

"SILENCE you fool! It is I, ZIIIIIIIIIIIM!" Came a shriek from behind.

"Zim!" Dib said aloud. He spun around to see Zim standing atop a large rock brandishing a nasty looking pistol. "How did you know Bigfoot was out here?"

"What?" Zim asked agitatedly. "Bigfoot's just a myth you stupid pig-smelly!

"A myth? What, like space aliens are a myth?" Dib stated defensively. Gunpoint or not, he wasn't about to let a little, green alien insult his field of specialty.

"I'm not here to debate whether or not Bigfoot exists, Dib. I'm here to save you!" He stated with a worried tone in his voice.

"Really?" Dib asked. His eyes brightened and his eyebrows rose up in surprise.

"No, not really!" Zim pulled the trigger on thee hypnosis gun and before Dib could react, everything went black for Dib. Zim laughed and hopped down from the boulder. He landed with sub par footing and fell flat on his face. He got up indignantly and walked over to Dib. He triumphantly placed his foot on top of Dib's sleeping body and continued laughing dramatically. He stood there in the field laughing like mad. He stood there for about a minute-and-a-half. "At last, I have the Dib-stink and nothing can stop me. I AM Zim and I am INVINCIBLE! Nothing can stop… Ahhh! A BEE!" He screamed and hastily began running like a mad, frightened child that flees from a creepy, balloon animal-making birthday clown as the misleadingly cute, fat-cheeked DEATH BEE happily followed behind the invader. "Get away from me, you terrible Death Bee! I command you! BE GONE! Do not evoke my wrath!" His threats were to no avail as the malicious bee continued on its relentless hunt for alien meats intent on its kill. Zim yelled out, "LU! Save me, LU!"

The little, home-made SIR unit sprang up and came charging out of the bushes with a laser firing out of the top of his head. Laser shots flew in all directions as he jolted down toward the bee. Every so often one would just miss Zim's head as he ducked and rolled to avoid both the bee and LU's terrible aim. Finally, a beam stuck the evil bee in the side and it, ironically, burst into flames and crashed to the ground with a smoke trail behind it much like it had done to Zim's Voot cruiser. "Excellent hit, LU. I shall invent and then present you with a medal!"

THANK YOU, SIR!" Lu saluted.

"I was being sarcastic, LU! You almost shot me!"

"But I DIDN'T shoot you. Isn't that what matters?" The robot asked his master.

Zim couldn't think of an answer to this question. He walked in silence over to where the beast had been felled and stood over the smoldering bee as he laughed. "That will teach you to interfere with the might of Z… Ahhh! It's still alive! It's still alive!" He screamed and danced in place frightened. The Death Bee's crispy corpse gave a slight, involuntary twitch and sent Zim continuing on his mad sprint down the field as LU finished the vile insect off. It was almost like something out of a mafia movie. LU stood there cool and collected and fired shot after shot into the bee until all that was left was a two foot deep crated in the lush green grass of the pasture.

"Is it dead yet?" Zim called to LU from quite a distance away.

"YES, MY MASTER! IT WILL TROUBLE YOU NO MORE!" He declared dutifully.

Once Zim recomposed himself, he walked back up the hill and collected Dib's sleeping form. He scooped him up and handed off the sleeping Dib to Lu. Zim had a quick gaze at the breath-taking display of untouched nature at it's finest. "Pathetic, hideous planet! All this 'nature' stuff makes me feel sick! I wish I had a bucket! I cannot wait to be rid of all this! Look upon it, LU! One day, all this…"

"Will be mine?" LU asked and shifted the weight on his shoulder.

"NO! One day, all this will be another proud planet of the Irken Empire with another proud city, its buildings rising high and defiantly into the air. The skies will be red and cloudy and choked with ship traffic. Irken children will play viciously competitive games of Fisk Ball and everyone will have a human slave! It will never rain again and there will be absolutely no meat! NO MEAT, DO YOU HEAR ME, MEAT! Your end is near! And here, here where I stand right now," he claimed with a proud stomp of his boot, "will stand a mighty statue of me! And it shall read, 'Zim, mighty conqueror of Earth'! It will be beautiful! It will be the most beautiful and glorious sight to ever be beheld by Irken eyes!" A little yellow butterfly flapped up in front of Zim and gently landed perching on his shoulder. He reached up and squashed it with his fist. "Filthy Earth-bug –winged-thingy! You have met your doom!" He laughed at this sight and looked at LU. "Come LU, we must get back to the base before Dib wakes up!"

Zim climbed on LU's back and he and Zim, and Dib of course, rocketed off into the sky toward Zim's secret base where horrific horrors of horror awaited Dib when he awakened.

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A/N: Well, that was really short. As usual, I hope you like it. Please review. It's all about to get going, seriously. Next chapter is where everything starts to come together.


	10. Preparing

A/N: As I promised, this is the chapter when things really get rolling. There's going to be drama, suspence, and one hell of an ass kicking. I hope you all enjoy it greatly. GREATLY!

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Chapter 10

PREPARING

Dib woke up with a searing pain in his head. His body felt like he was on fire. Suddenly, his mind was submerged in a see of confusion and disorientation. 'Where am I? What's going on?' all passed through his giant head. I tried to rise up from whatever it was he was laying on, but it was to no avail. The surgical table he was laying was also the table he was strapped down to. He began to madly thrash against the straps like a freshly capture, wild beast in a cage. It was no use, whoever had tied him down had done their job very well indeed. I laid his head back down and attempted to calm down. His heart was pounding like an out-of-control diesel train and he was having trouble collecting his thoughts. At first he couldn't remember just how he'd managed to get into the present situation. His mind was still foggy with the haze of sedation.

He raised his head back up and looked around the strange room despairingly. The room itself was several different colors of red, purple, and magenta. At the far end of the room was a large, mirror-like panel that he decided to be a one-way, observation window. The ceiling was a nothing but thick wires and cables and in every possible space resided rather menacing looking pieces of machinery and lab equipment. He was definitely in Zim's base, but how?

Dib closed his eyes and tried to think back to earlier that day. He'd woken up around noon, this much he knew, and there was something on his scanner. It was Bigfoot! He'd gone to investigate the sighting and left Gaz at home alone. Then there was a painful jolt of unrelenting dread in his chest that flooded into his head and suddenly; everything that had up to his incapacitation came rushing back to him.

He began to panic now. So overwrought with the thought of what could happen to Gaz, or himself for that matter, for the second time, Dib attempt to escape his bonds. He would not stop. Too much counted on his escaping. "I MUST save Gaz!" He screamed to himself. "I only hope no ones watching from behind the glass."

Meanwhile, behind the glass, a figure sat in the dark watching the scene unfold. It rose from it's seat and said, "Hahaha! Look at him go! Silly bigheaded boy! Want some more mud, pig?" Gir turned one of the lights on and sat back down in his little pink chair and continued his tea party. Pig, Minimoose, and Gir were all seated at a little table. Minimoose was more of floating than sitting. While they were having a grand old time, Byron and Zim were in an upper level with one of their other guests.

Unlike Dib, Gaz was happily, well as happily as she could be, seated in a cushy chair playing her Game Slave. Zim was eating a burrito and Byron was pacing back and forth across the room excitedly.

"How'd you get her to go along with this?" Zim asked.

"I told her of what wonders awaits in your new world and how I'd give her all the pizza and cola she could ever desire! And, as you can see, she took me up on it," he said.

Gaz looked up from her game and hissed, "It better be good pizza, Byron. Or else."

"Don't worry, Gaz. It'll be the most wonderful and fantastic pizza you've ever had. You might go insane from how DELICIOUS it will be!" Byron clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, "I can't believe it's working! My glorious plan is so amazing! Everything is going SO well!" Zim said with pure, child-like amazement in his voice. "At last the world shall be mine!"

Byron looked at Zim with an odd gaze and corrected, "Ours, you mean."

"Of course I don't! You're just a servant of the Empire! YOU can't conquer this planet.," he said angrily.

This sent Byron mentally reeling, but he remained calm. He like Zim and, at this moment, had no intention of harming him. He'd already anticipated this and planned ahead. It wasn't a dire concern. "How foolish of me! I'm sorry, Zim, I forgot. The world is yours." 'For now' he thought to himself.

"Are you two always like this?" Gaz asked. "You're almost like a married couple!" She looked over at LU, "Do they always act like this?" LU nodded.

"Silence, Gaz-stink!" Zim yelled out with little pieces of burrito landing on the floor as he spoke. Byron tensed up knowing what would happen next.

"WHAT… did you just say!" Gaz said. Her left eye now mush larger than its partner. Byron sat down and tried not to make any movements that could attract her attention.

"Uh, I didn't, eh, but I… NOT THE FACE!" Zim screamed as Gaz jumped upon him and began waling on his head! His burrito went sailing through the air and landed with a disgusting 'splat' sound at Byron's feet. He reached down, slowly, and picked it up. He continued watching the amazing beating skills of Gaz and enjoyed his burrito.

She kicked, and clawed, and bit, and hit Zim in so many different and creative ways, that Byron almost felt compelled to take notes. It put him to shame to see this American girl who could obviously fight much better than he could. Zim screamed like a stuck pig and tried desperately to cover his face with one hand and crawl away from the raging girl with the other. The latter attempt failed miserably.

"Don't EVER tell me to be silent, Zim! And don't EVER call me 'Gaz-best'! I AM GAZ and that is what you'll call me! Got it?" She said as she got up and straightened her hair back out. Zim was lying in a twisted heap on the floor making funny sounds.

"Yes, Gaz. I understand."

Byron finished his burrito and walked over to where Zim was sprawled out in the floor. "I'm gonna take him down to the infirmary, Gaz," he said and reached down and popped Zim's right eye back into its socket. He knelt down carefully picked Zim up. "I'll see in the observation room in ten minutes.

"Yeah, whatever," she replied automatically as she violently hammer away on her video game.

"Vincent, could you please take us to the infirmary?" He asked.

"YES, BYRON!" With that the floor opened and the two were lowered through the floor leaving Gaz by herself.

"Why'd she do that?" Zim said with a mouth full of broken teeth.

"You should have just called her 'Gaz'. I warned you. I remember, I said, "Don't call her anything other than 'Gaz' and don't tell her to do anything or she'll beat you into another whole dimension of pain and suffering'. But no, you wouldn't listen and now here I am, should be torturing Dib, but instead I'm carrying your busted green ass to the infirmary!"

"Where'd your accent go?" Zim asked very off the topic.

"Huh?" Byron said. He'd not noticed, but Zim was right. He spoke now, as clearly as Zim did. How odd. "I dunno'," he replied.

"I knew something would go wrong if you attached that PAK. I knew it!" Zim whispered.

"Nothing's going wrong! So what if I lost my accent, I don't need it. It's not vital to the success of the mission. So who cares?"

"I liked it," Zim said. This surprised Byron. Was Zim coming on to him? He didn't even want to picture how that would work!

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you in love with me or something?" Byron said defensively.

Zim looked just as shocked and disgusted as Byron had felt at the first thought of this concept. "Ugh, don't be stupid! We're both males of two different species. It would never work out. I'm sorry if you have feelings like that for me, but I do not," he said.

"No, no. I feel the same way. But why'd you say that about my accent?" He asked Zim. For some reason the trip to the infirmary was taking longer than usual.

"I meant just what I said, I liked it. You've been a very loyal and faithful servant and I guess I've, grown fond of you; like comrades in arms tend to do. You understand, right?"

Byron felt so much better that, not only was Zim not having delusions of romance, but also that Zim had accepted him as a "comrade". "Of course, I understand. I feel the same way."

"AAAW! HOW TOUCHING!" Vincent said. "IF I HAD TEAR DUCTS, I'D START CRYING!"

"SILENCE!" Zim screamed. "What have I told you about eavesdropping?" He asked sternly.

"SORRY, SIR."

Finally, the doors opened and Byron walked into the infirmary bay. It was the only part of Zim's base that, as far as Byron knew of, that was a color other than the usual reddish scheme. He set Zim down on the little bed in a corner of the large white room. He walked over to a cabinet and began to unload medical supplies. Since he'd been uploaded with all known Irken knowledge, Byron was practically a proper physician and within five minutes, he'd cleaned all of Zim's wounds, bandaged them, and set the broken bone in his arm.

"How's that feel?" He asked him.

"Much better," Zim said yawning.

"Good. I'll take a look at that gash on your head later. It may need stitches," Byron grimaced.

"I didn't know Gaz wore steel toed boots."

"Neither did I, but fuck it. It's over now. And you know what they say?" Byron said.

"What?"

"The ladies dig scars," the two had a good laugh at this. "I'm gonna' leave you to get some rest. I'll update you on the Dib situation later, okay?"

Zim didn't answer. He'd already slipped of into sleep's warm and painless embrace. Byron walked over to another cabinet and pulled out a blanket and made sure Zim was comfortable.

He then stood up and he remembered what was waiting for him in the other room. His calm and steady demeanor rapidly dissolved into the shaking, wild-eyed beast that had come knocking at Gas's front door earlier that day. "I'm coming, Dib," he whispered to himself and gingerly walked out the door.

He left and walked down the hall a few doors to a room labeled 'Observation' and walked inside. Instead of finding Gaz, he found the remains of Gir's little party. The room was littered with confetti, streamers, balloons, and empty Champaign bottles. Pig was asleep in the corner with a lampshade on his head. "Vincent, where's Gaz?"

"SHE'S COMING, BYRON. IT'LL BE A FEW MINUTES."

"Thank you, Vincent. Could you help me clean this mess up?" Before he could even bend down and pick up a party hat, a hundred different tentacles came out of the ceiling and within three seconds, the room was spotless.

He walked over to the viewing window to inspect his test subject. Instead, all he saw was an empty table with a set of victimless straps. "VINCENT! Where's the prisoner!"

"OH YEAH, I FORGOT ABOUT THAT. HE'S HIDING DOWN IN THE DEVELOPMENT AND TESTING AREA. WOULD YOU LIKE FOR ME TO APPREHEND HIM?" Vincent asked.

"No, Vincent. Just take me down there. But, uh, you could restrict the oxygen levels in there. I'd like to see him run away if he can barely breath!" Byron said with a sickening laugh. "And when I get back, can you make sure that the table is properly equipped to handle, Dib? And that goes for the room too. He's going to be in there for quite some time.

"YES, BYRON. CONSIDER IT DONE." Vincent said and lowered Byron to the appropriate floor.

The room felt funny. It must have been the lack of oxygen. If it weren't for his Pak, Byron would also be lying on the floor gasping feebly for breath, but he wasn't. From the looks of the room, Dib had tried to sabotage the base. A raging fire had been burning inside until the oxygen had been cut.

"Diiiiiiib! Come out and play, Dib!" Byron laughed. He picked up a pipe of the floor. "I know you're in here Dib. Why'd you think I cut the O2? Not for my own pleasure, I assure you of that!" He quietly walked in and out between smoldering machines looking for Dib. He was so intent on his search that he didn't notice the large chunk of ruble in the floor. He tripped and banged his head on a pipe. Dizzied, he stood up, his head bleeding and his ankle throbbing. He now limped down one of the service routes with the large pipe in his hands yelling threats and terrible promises. It was very reminiscent of the scene at the end of The Shining, which Dib watched religiously.

Speaking of Dib, being the very intelligent boy that he is, had anticipated this situation and swiped an oxygen tank from the med lab on his way down. He was hiding in a barrel trying not to make a sound. He could hear Byron approaching. He readied himself for the attack.

"Where could little Dib be? Hmm?" Byron chuckle to himself. He continued his limping search for the test subject. "I know you're in here! Quit hiding and face me like a man!" Byron was, yet again, quivering with anticipation. His terrible grin plain for all to see, had all of been there to see that is. His sweaty hands were having trouble holding on to the pipe and his ankle was throbbing something fierce. "I won't let you ruin this, Dib! I only have so much time before it's too late and you will NOT be the end of ME! I'm the end of you!"

"End this!" He heard behind him, but instead of instinctively turning around, he ducked and heard the whisper of air pass over his head a Dib's air tank swung at his head. He then spun around and planted the pipe squarely onto the soft of Dib's stomach. He gasped and fell to his knees. Before the epic, sword fight-like battle that Dib had expected to occur began, it was done. Byron reached down and pried the mask from his face.

"Sorry, Dib, but it must be done!" He said with a wide-eyed smile. With that he swung the shaking pipe around and, with a hollow thud, connected it with Dib's gargantuan head. The boy fell limp on the floor. Byron casually tossed to pipe to the floor and leaned down to check his pulse. "Oh, good. You're not dead. Come one, Dib my boy, we're got business to attend to!" He grabbed Dib by the foot and began to drag him out of the room while whistling a happily little tune.

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A/N: Oh no! Poor, poor Dib! It's over for him, isn't it? Who knows? He's probably still got some fight in him, along with a concussion. Please review.


	11. In The Name Of Science, Or Sadism

Chapter 11

IN THE NAME OF SCIENCE, OR SADISM!

This was a familiar scene. Byron and Zim were in the infirmary again. The only difference this time was that it was Zim who was performing the first aid. He'd bandaged up the gash on his forehead and was massaging a healing gel into Byron's ankle.

"Wow, he really did a job on you, didn't he?" Zim asked concernedly.

"No," Byron laughed, "I tripped and busted my head on something. Gave my ankle a good ringing too. Dib tried to hit me with an air tank, so I nailed him in the stomach!" The pair laughed amusedly at the little anecdote.

"The foolish Earth-stink is creative, I'll give him that. But he is no match for us! I almost pity him because of how pathetic he is!" Zim laughed.

"Yeah," Byron said, "Hey, you wanna' go get a burrito before we take care of Dib?"

"Yeah, why not?"

The two headed to the lab's galley for a snack. Meanwhile, Gaz was sitting in the viewing room watching Dib thrash on the table while in the throws of a nightmare. After a few minutes, she remembered what Byron had told her and she got up from her seat. She walked out into the hall, made sure the time was right and ran into the lab.

"Dib! Dib, wake up! We're getting out of here!" Someone was trying to shake Dib awake and was yelling into his left ear. He opened his eyes and saw the worried face of his sister Gaz. She looked very panicked and was fitfully trying to undo the straps on the table. "I've come to save you, Dib!"

"Really?" He asked with a slur in his voice. His head was still pounding and he felt like there was a spike in his forehead.

Suddenly she stopped and smiled. "No!" Out of nowhere, both Zim and Byron, burritos in hand, walked into the room and the three of them had a good laugh. "I warned you about stealing my pizza and cola, didn't I? I warned you about interrupting me while I played my Game Slave, didn't I? But no! You wouldn't listen, and now look what's happened!"

"I can't believe you fell for that on the second time!" Zim cackled, his long tongue lolling out of his mouth. He caught his breath and took another bite from his burrito.

"Oh, but it wouldn't have worked without the amazing acting talents of our wonderful Gaz!" Byron cheered and clapped. "Such a wonderful delivery, Gaz. I almost believed you cared!" He handed her a burrito, "I figured I get you one while we were there."

"Thank you, Byron," Gaz groaned and bit into the burrito. As usual, it tasted like pork.

This was all too much for poor Dib. He'd had such an overwhelming day and now his sister, of all people, was allied with the traitorous human and his alien counterpart. He lay there on the table in excruciating pain and wept. He wept bitter tears.

Byron walked up to Dib and gently placed a finger under his eye. A single, tiny tear ran down onto his finger and Byron, with great zealous, jammed the finger into his mouth and exclaimed, "Oh, your tears are delicious! They're so bitter and yet I love them!" Told you they were bitter tears! Byron placed his hand on Dib's shoulder and carefully lowered himself down until he was face to face with Dib. He looked up and said, "I need a few minutes to talk to the patient alone, please."

Understanding fully, Gaz and Zim walked out of the room and the door shut behind them. "So, what have you in store for me, you monster!" Dib yelled angrily.

The grin left Byron's face immediately. "Now Dib, it's that kind of negativity that will turn this joyous and privileged experience into a terrible and painful, nightmarish, LIVING HELL from which there will be NO ESCAPE!" He yelled. "So, be nice, and I'll let you live. Resistance will be noted."

"How can you do this?"

"Easy, I just get out of bed in the morning and have a bowl of choco-flakes. Everything else just comes naturally," he laughed.

"But why? Why sell out your own species?"

"MY OWN species? This coming from the person who, up until right now, was convinced I was a vampire! Please, you of all people should understand why I'm doing this. No one here loves me. My parents are horrible people. No one cares about me and everyone who knows me scorns me. I'm an outcast, much like you, and I've had enough of it. 'My own' species doesn't want me, so I don't want them! The only one to accept me, other than your sister, was a fucking alien! Most people would kill themselves in this situation, but I'm much stronger than that, Dib," The entire time he spoke, Byron had his hands intertwined behind his back. He paced back and forth in front of Dib and stared at him with his chilling gaze. Every so often his eye would twitch or a shudder would run up his spine. "Instead of killing myself, I'll kill everyone else. I'll spare only the few who are kind to me: Zim and your sister. It may be a short list, but they're far more important than the rest of YOUR lot!"

"You're willing to wipe out the entire planet? But think of all the women and children. Think of all the babies that have yet to have lives," Dib pleaded.

"Babies?" Byron asked with another frightening twitch. "You want to talk about babies? Being a baby isn't an excuse! They may be young and innocent now, but they'll grow up. They'll just grow up to be exactly like the previous generation; wicked and filled with hate. Twisted into the very thing that twisted them! It's a very sad truth, I'll admit to you. I DO, after all, have feelings and a soul. I understand your plight and, under different circumstances, might have been sympathetic to your cause. But it goes without saying that man is a plague upon this glorious planet and what we're doing MUST be done! Don't think of it so much as the greatest act of genocide ever known to man. Think of it as a new beginning for this planet. I'm saving you all from yourselves!"

Byron had wandered off down a path into his mind and was lost for the moment. Finally, Dib snapped him back to attention. "So what, you're going to kill us all and then repopulate the world with my sister?"

Byron gave him a venomous look. "Why do you always reach the most extreme conclusion! Don't get me wrong, your sister is lovely, but it wouldn't be possible. I'm not going to be a constituent in this species for much longer. I grow tired of my human frame and long for something better. I'm applying for a new membership. As are you! I'm about to be turning in your paperwork as well," Byron said and produced a needle from his pocket.

"You are SO going to hell for this," Dib declared!

"Hell? Hmm, I pegged you as an atheist," Byron laughed. "Besides, where I'm going, there is no heaven and hell, only an eternity with a far superior race of life forms. It will be a true, living paradise. How ironic, seeing how you've spent your life living in a fool's paradise. How could you ever think there was hope that you'd prevail against an alien invasion? Don't answer that!"

Byron limped over to another table and picked up two small vials. One had a red label and the other was black.

"What's that?" Dib asked. Deep inside, he was more afraid than he'd ever been in his entire life. He never thought it would end like this. He always expected, if he were to be killed, that it would be Zim who finished him off; not a fellow human.

"This, Dib, is our ticket, mainly mine and Gaz's, to getting out of this situation alive. I know things, wonderful and amazing things, about the Irkens. One fun little tidbit is the fact that, if it suits them, they will destroy all remaining creatures on a planet with a DNA sweep. I can't be killed if I don't have human DNA, so our mutual little friends in these bottles will help us out. I have one question for you, Dib. Now, bear in mind, you don't have a choice in whether or not you get injected, but you have a choice in, A, how painful the process will be and, B, if I let you live afterward. If you go causing trouble, this will be most unpleasant," he said and sat the bottles down next to Dib. He then reached down to his side and produced a lovely pistol.

"Where'd you get that?"

"I found it, but that doesn't matter. If you try to screw things up again, I'll just shoot you in the knees and that'll be that!" Byron said with a smile and a chuckle. "I think we've wasted enough time. Wadda' you say we get this show on the road?"

"Why the hurry?" Dib asked.

"That's a rather personal question. I don't think I'll answer," Byron said leering at Dib.

"It's that PAK, isn't it? It wasn't designed for humans to use! You're having a reaction to it and it's driving you crazy! That's why you're doing this!" Dib yelled out.

Byron quickly cupped his hand over Dib's mouth and whispered, "Bingo! The sooner I test this on you and make sure it's safe, the sooner I can use it and end my troubles. Then I can go get Tak and…" He stopped.

"Tak? She's involved in this too!"

"Oh dear, I think I've said too much! ZIM, COULD YOU ASSIST ME WITH THE PATIENT?" He called out to the hallway.

Zim walked in with a large smile and what appeared to be a couple of kiss marks on his face. Byron decided to not press the issue, but Dib felt compelled to totally obliterate the issue. "You filthy, green bastard! You raped my sister, didn't you!"

Gaz yelled from outside in the hall, "Shut up you asshole!"

"I did no such thing!" He yelled and quickly wiped the smudges of his face. "It was just kissing! And what I do in the privacy of MY hallways is none of your business! You're not her male parental unit anyway!"

Before a total brawl broke out, Byron shouted, "Enough. We'll worry about interspecies relationships later! We have pressing matters to attend to! Zim, could you please secure Dib's giant head so I can have a go at his neck?"

"My head is not…"

"DON'T START THAT SHIT AGAIN!" Byron shrieked as spittle flew out of his mouth. 'There's a thin line between a funny running gag and just plain annoying!' Byron thought to himself. "So, have you decided how we're going to do this? Slow and painful? Or…"

There was a pause. A few seconds ticked by at the pace of a dead rabbit and then Dib answered, "I give up."

Zim couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How did you do this?" He asked Byron.

"Simple, I just talked to him," he said and readied the needle. "This is gonna' sting, okay?" Before Dib could speak a word, Byron jammed the needle into his neck as hard as he could. Dib let out a terrible scream. "Ooh, I forgot to swab with alcohol first! Oh well, too late now!" He reached down and grabbed another bottle and said, "It's a glorious day for science!"

"What's that for?" Dib asked.

"This is to make you sleep so we can move you to your room, unless, you'd prefer the pipe again," he said with a grinned. Byron had grown fond of the pipe.

"No, no, feel free to sedate me!"

Then, Dib felt a little pinch in his arm and everything went black. Just before everything went silent, he could have sworn he heard a high-pitched voice saying, "You gots my burritos!" that was immediately followed by **Squeek!** The last thing that ran through his mind was, 'What have I done?'.

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A/N: What'd you think? Exciting isn't it? Byron's first evil rant/dialogue! He'll make a fine invader! What did you think of my little hint at a ZaGR? (By the way, I love those things!) Please leave a review and tell me what you think!


	12. The Trurning Point

A/N: WARNING! You are about to read the shortest chapter I've ever written!

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Chapter 12

THE TURNING POINT

It had been a very busy day; a busy day indeed and Byron had retired to his room for the night. He was sitting in his comfortable chair, sipping a Poop cola, and absentmindedly petting Gir like a freakish, metal cat. The little SIR had crawled up into his lap a short while earlier while Byron stared off into space and mumble incoherent nothings to himself. Was in a sad state of temporary comatose. Every now and then he'd take a sip of his drink or his eye would twitch, but other than petting Gir, that was all the movement he could achieve. The, like a bolt out of the blue, Byron snapped into a moment of clarity and, with as much care and precision as an unstable mind may muster, thought over what had transpired thus far. He thought about how fast his mind was deteriorating and what consequences were in store for him if he didn't act soon.

"I don't have much longer, Gir. If I keep this up, I won't have a mind to enjoy after this is over," he said and looked down at Gir. "You understand, don't you? You know why I've been doing this, right?"

"Nope, but you're really nice. That's what Vincent told me," Gir chirped happily.

"Well, at least I have that," he said distantly. He looked out over his room. He'd come in earlier trapped in his madness and completely trashed the room. The mattress was on the opposite side of the room from the bed frame. His clothes were all over the floor. And his computer was a smoldering pile of plastic, glass, and chips. He didn't even remember doing it. "Gir, I'm frightened," he whispered.

"Aw, don't be, Master Byron. Everything's gonna' be alright. All you need is a hug," he laughed and administered out his child-like prescription. Byron smiled back and leaned into Gir's embrace. He wrapped his arms around the robot and softly cried. He was so afraid inside. He was afraid he'd go insane, so afraid his plan would fail, and mortally afraid that he'd never see Tak again. He was a raging inundation of conflicting emotions and fears.

Byron decided he needed to calm his nerves with some "herbal remedies". He grabbed his cigar box and went through his nightly ritual of rolling a healthy-sized joint and then smoking it in ten minutes. But tonight was different. He knew he was stoned out of his mind, but that was the problem in the first place. He WAS already out of his mind and he could find no refuge in his thin, white twisting smoke.

Byron faked a yawn and looked at Gir, "I think it's time for bed, Gir," he said hoping he'd take the hint.

Fortunately, he did. "Nighty-night, Master Byron!" He yelled and ran to his room.

The remains of Byron's room were, once again, submerged into the piercing silence that can only lead to one thing, deep thought. He sat there, shakily holding his empty cola can, and continued to mentally probe. He sat there for another thirty minutes before he dosed off.

He woke up two hours later. Standing up from his chair, he decided what to do about his predicament. He peered out his doorway into the empty hall before he departed. The auxiliary hall lighting was on for the night and the halls had that cold, eerie coloring you only see in hospitals. He walked until he knew Zim would not be able to hear him and then he ran. He ran like the devil himself was behind him. 'Hurry!' his mind screamed at him. 'Hurry before it's too late! DO IT! Do it before it's too late and you fuck it all up!' He ran, his ankle throbbing again, until he reached the lab.

He burst through the door to the main lab and began to frantically rummage through the cabinets until he found the proper instruments: alcohol, a cotton ball, a needle, the bottle of serum, and a tuba. Realizing that the tuba was the wrong instrument, he put it back and prepared himself. He swabbed a spot on his arm and readied the injection. He grabbed the "painful bottle", not by accident, but by pure, fear-driven intention and sucked as much serum into the needle as it would hold.

"I can't wait any longer. Dib'll take too to test this on," he paused for a moment and then firmly stated, "It's safe!"

He quickly took off his belt and folded it over so he could grip it in between his teeth. He raised his hand and held the needle trembling over his intended spot of injection. "There'll be no turning back after this," he said as if he could have turned back before.

Then, just as a single tear silently ran down his cheek, violently jammed the needle into his arm. The clamped down on the belt and stifled his screams. A pain, almost equal to his Pak installation, dug into his arm like a raging inferno and slowly spread up his arm and into the rest of his body. Even then, his vision was beginning to take on a reddish tint. His joints and limbs ached and his heart began to pound erratically. He knew it wouldn't be long now. He lay down on the floor and curled up into the fetal position. He had started to quiver and tremble as both fear and bodily shock began to invade every cell in his body. Albeit the horrendous pain, Byron was experiencing a euphoric feeling in his mind as he thought about what his NEW life would be like. He mumbled, through clattering teeth, "Won-der-ful…"

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A/N: Oh no! I'm such a heartless bustard! Another cliffhanger? Yes! But I promise, DarkShadow1818, the next chapter will be the magic moment! I promise! Anyway, I'm sorry it was so short, but I had to set the mood. Please review if you liked it. Hell, review if you hated it! I don't care; I just like to hear from you. Lastly, I'd like to thank everyone who has contributed a review, or more, to this story! Thank you: DarkShadow1818, Kitsune Ryune, Ri2, Shamanah, HevenSentHellBroken, Chickens, and Muh Says The Cow. Thank you all. It is much appreciated.


	13. The Guys They Are A'Changin!

A/N: WARNING! This chapter contains extreme gore that is of such a mind-fucking quality that young children and really, should-be-dead-by-now, old people should not read because it will probably scar them for the rest of they're lives. Other than that, ENJOY!

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Chapter 13

THE GUYS THEY ARE A-CHANGIN'

Dib hadn't been able to sleep that night. He'd tried to pick the lock on his room hours ago, but to no avail. All he had to do was think about what he'd done. It was ironic that Dib was in almost the exact position Byron had been a short while ago. He contemplated what he'd done and what was happening now.

Dib's changes were far less drastic and paced. Over the past six hours all he'd achieved was a healthy green color and one big, red eye. He still had a ways to go, but it was progress, but at the moment, he looked like the kind of monstrous creature he would have happily chased down a dark ally just the day before. Now, what was he? What would become of him? HE fathomed that once this was over, they'd probably kill him, regardless of if he cooperated or not. It wasn't like Zim would be hesitant to be rid of his arch nemesis for the rest of forever.

Dib could then hear footsteps outside his room and he tensed. As the lock clicked, for s split-second, Dib thought about hiding under his bed. He just knew it was Zim or Byron. They'd come to kill him! Hadn't they?

Instead, the form that stood in the door was that of a young, fifteen-year-old girl with purple hair.

"Hey, Dib," the Goth girl said feebly. She wasn't sorry for what she'd done, but she wanted to come check on her brother. She'd never admit it, but deep down inside, she loved him more than anyone else on Earth, but not quite as much as the other man in here life.

Dib sat in his cell defiantly silent. He just stared at her with his normal eye and the other large, red one. He fought back his tears valiantly, and for the moment, he was winning.

Gaz walked into the room and locked the door behind her. She looked sadly down at Dib and sat on the bed next to him. "I'm sorry, Dib," she whispered.

"For what, fucking an alien!" He yelled at her. He restrained the urge to slap her right across the face. 'How long has she been fooling around behind my back? How long have THEY been together?' he thought to himself. How could some one like himself, who sees everything unnatural in the world, miss his sister's affair with that damn alien from down the street?

Gaz arched an eyebrow and noticed his voice had gone up a few pitches. Then her expression melted into anger and she fire back, "NO! I'm not sorry for that! Quit being a little bitch about it and get over it," she paused for a minute to compose herself. "I'm sorry this had to happen, but… You know what, fuck you! If this is how you're going to act, I'm going back to Zim's room," she stated the last part with great emphasis in order to strike that tender little nerve in Dib's large head that she so keenly aimed for.

"But I…" he tried to say.

"Shut up, your voice is stupid!" She slammed the door in his face and the lock clanged shut. She poked her face up in the viewing window and yelled, "And just so you know, we DO IT whenever we possibly can and it's FANTASTIC!"

Dib was left speechless by Gaz's latter statement. He sat there, a million different thoughts tumbling around in his head like a giant, unnaturally large washing machine, completely dumbstruck and without a single plan. He had absolutely no idea what to do. He decided the only thing he could really do was to sit back and see what happens. He lay down on his bed and tried to drift off into a sleep. His changes were continually becoming more evident.

Meanwhile, back in the lab, Byron continued to thrash about on the floor in pain. It was like he was being eaten alive by a pack of rabid moose, and he almost wished that was the fact so his mind-splitting pain would end. His hands fervently grasped at his head as he continued to chomp on the belt in yet another attempt not to scream. Tears poured from his eyes like he had a wide-open faucet painfully embedded under each eyelid. He felt sick, like he was going to vomit, like he was going to regurgitate his entire digestive track, and he felt like his entire body was going to rip apart into a nasty, sticky mess of human-stink organs. Now, one part of his hazy mind was cursing him for what he'd done, and the other part was trying to tell him that once this was done he'd be happy again. It would be over soon. It had to be, or he knew he was going to die as this grotesque, half-formed thing slumped out on the floor of the lab. This thought filled him with more fear than the actual process.

Suddenly, the pain stopped. Byron sat up in confusion and opened his eyes, half expecting to see that it was done. He was so wrong. He looked down to find his still pallor, white skin on his arms. He silently cursed under his breath until he looked closer. On a more in depth investigation he noticed that the tiny, blue blood vessels that run up and down his arm were an odd shade of green. They looked like the old, twisting workings of vines that climb up the side of an old house.

A cold feeling settle over him and he began to shiver and grasp at himself in a fruitless attempt for warmth. His teeth started to chatter on the belt and his body went numb. Then at a rapid pace, things began to progress. His heart started pounding again and a pain settled in his head. He was submerged into a sea of writhing agony as the change set in. Blood was now rushing and pounding in Byron's ears. He couldn't hear anything anymore. He was in such excruciating pain that he bit his belt into several soggy pieces of leather. He crawled over to a counter to prop himself up against and didn't notices the sickly crunching and popping sound that were coming from beneath his clothes.

When Byron would look back on this moment later, he would remember and laugh at how much his own transformation resembled the one in "American Werewolf in London", the irony being this was one of his favorite films. Disgusting sounds slowly, like an orchestra warming up for an overture by Tchaikovsky, began to fill the air and increase in their frequency. Bones began popping, tendons tearing, organs grinding and churning. Every tissue in his body was converting. Muscles shredded apart and grew again and all the little, squishy things he had for guts were rearranging themselves. He clenched his fists so hard that blood, green in it's color, began to seep out of the palms of his hands. His legs stuck out in front of him shaking and trembling; causing his boots to loudly thump against the floor.

Byron didn't know how much more of this he could take before he passed out. He reached a hand up to cover his mouth, in an attempt to stifle his retching, and noticed that instead of his usual amount of fingers, he had three. Three green, claw-like digits stared him in the face. He gave them an experimental wiggle and he smiled at how beautiful they were. His smile quickly deteriorated and then he leaned over and projectile vomited his entire digestive track, and a few other choice organs, into a waste receptacle.

He looked in unbridled horror at the pile of pulsing organs in the can. 'I should be dead! How can this be?' he thought. He didn't realize what had happened, but his body had purged all of the unnecessary organs and, as I narrate to you, began to develop the proper Irken organs. Byron realized this shortly after and laid his claws on his stomach, "I've got a Squeedly spooch," he slurred as excess drool, from all the pain, oozed from his mouth.

A funny, tingling sensation spread across the top of his head. Byron reached his pair of tentative claws up to investigate his scalp. What they came back with were two handfuls of hair. He reached up again to find the same result. He briskly brushed the rest of the hair off the top of his head and felt around the top of his, now smooth, head. He soon found two nubs quickly budding under the skin on the top of his head. And so, without further ado, two long, black antennae punctured the green flesh atop his cranium and rose proudly into sticky and shiny existence. With a rush of sound, Byron's hearing returned along with a burning pain in his head. His screams could be heard buy the poor little boy who had moved in next door to Zim after his parents decided it best to get away from the "Johnny kid".

Squee sat up in his bed and looked around his dark bedroom. He reached next to his nightstand and grabbed his trusty flashlight. Little Squee turned it on and pulled his piggy blanket up around his head in fear.

As the screams declined in their volume, Squee's mother charged into the room and yelled, "Squee, shut up and go to bed! If I hear another agonized scream filled with suffering beyond anything man could ever imagine, I'm going to give you something to really scream about!"

Squee frantically turned off his flashlight and ducked under his covers. "Okay."

"Damn right!" She slammed the door and Squee was left alone in the dark once again. Somehow, his mother hadn't noticed the tall, slender boy with the strange hair and deadly looking knives perched coolly in the window. I would like to say that Johnny burst through the window dramatically and saved Squee from his wretched family, but that would require me to deviate from the plot that is already at hand. So, that's all I have to say about that!

Byron was, at that moment, whilst Squee was being rescued by Johnny, experiencing another paused moment without any pain. He sat there, trying to enjoy the new feeling his body was sending to his brain. He leaned forward and removed a boot from his foot. Just like his hands, his right foot was a long, green extension of flesh and bone with three digits on the end. He gave his new toes a playful wiggle and tried to stand up.

He was knocked off his feet by another racking explosion of pain. He grasped at the edge of the counter hopelessly as he plummeted back to the floor. His hopes of getting to a mirror and looking at his results fell with him.

The bones in his face felt like they had melted into a malleable substance. The structure began to reform itself into that of a noble Irken's. He emitted another scream that scared Squee even more and made Johnny crack a freakish smile.

"I like this neighborhood," quipped Johnny, "Come, Squee! Let us embark on our journey into a brave new world!"

"Okay, Mr. Scary-neighbor-boy," Squee whimpered and tried to wipe the blood off his bunny slippers as they climbed out the window.

Byron's nostrils sealed up and his nose disappeared. His skull lengthened and thinned all of his teeth began to fall out with great succession; they were rapidly replaced by the zipper-like teeth that Zim so proudly bared at anyone who dared to defy him.

The change only took a total of six minutes. It had occurred with such rapidity and searing pain, that soon after, Byron passed out from utter and complete physical and mental exhaustion. His changes almost totally complete, he slumped over on the floor. Where a normal human boy had been, now rested a drooling Irken.

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A/N: So, did you all like? I couldn't help but give Johnny and Squee a little cameo. Anyway, please leave a review and tell me what you think. Thank you.


	14. A Great Way To Start The Morning!

Chapter 14

A GREAT WAY TO START A MORNING!

"Where is Byron, Gir?" Zim asked irritatedly. He'd been looking for him for the past hour. It had never occurred to him to check the labs, but what would be doing down there anyway?

"I dunno'. He was actin' weird last night and then he went away. I aint' seen him since. I'm worried! He was nice!" Gir screamed. The little robot was very worried about his master's friend.

"Acting weird? Hmmm? Do you have any idea what this means!"

"Nope!"

"Oh, good. I don't either."

Byron awoke from a groggy slumber. He felt like he'd been asleep for a couple of months, but his eyelids were still heavy. He stood up in a daze and, half-asleep, walked back to his room. He reeked of vomit and other smells that he couldn't identify. So, he decided what he needed to feel better was a nice, long, hot shower to wake him up. He had no idea just how much it was going to wake him up.

He walked into the bathroom, completely missing the tall, green alien that appeared in the mirror and turned on the shower. He sat on the toilet lid and waited for the shower to heat up. After a minute's wait, he stood up and removed his clothes and, 'Where'd my other boot go?' he thought. He passed this off as smoking too much weed and walked toward the shower. The steam had fogged up the mirror and any chance of saving him from the shower disappeared along with his reflection. He opened the shower door and, like always, ran straight into the shower as fast as he could.

The water felt good. But it was kind of hot. In fact, it was really hot. It was burning him. That's when his eyes shot open and he muttered those two little words that usually come to be most's last, "Oh, shit!" He sprang from the shower stall so fast, he punched a hole in the glass as he did so. He collapsed to the floor screaming as steam rose of his bubbling skin.

From down the hall, Zim thought he could hear screaming. It was the same screaming he swore he'd heard in his sleep. He smiled for a moment at the thought of it being Dib, but then he decided to investigate just to be sure.

He ran down the hall as fast as he could following the chain of screams that continued to grow closer with each passing second. He got right outside Byron's room when the screams stopped. Zim carefully opened the door and looked inside. The room was a total wreck. He'd never seen such destruction since Operation Impending Doom 1! Steam was pouring out of the door on the other side of the room. Zim proceeded toward the door, the whole time say, "Byron? Are you okay? Byron?" He slid the door open and saw Byron writhing on the floor. The only problem was, it didn't look like Byron anymore. This pathetic creature on the floor was an Irken. Zim decided that, apparently, it wasn't a very intelligent one seeing how he'd tried to take a shower. "Who are you! You've come to steal my mission haven't you! What have you down with Byron? Answer me!"

Byron managed to look up at Zim and whimper, "You fucking moron, I AM Byron!" With that, he fell face down, with a nasty thud sound, on the hard bathroom floor and slipped into unconsciousness once again.

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A/N: Sorry it's so short, but even the greatest works of fiction have a short chapter here and there. Lol Really, I didn't feel like writing another really long chapter tonight. So just be thankful! Hahaha! Please review, I'm begging!


	15. Rainy Day Activities

A/N: Hey! Sorry this took so long, but I've been really busy. Anyway, this chapter is, in my opinion, pretty funny. I hope you like it. Also, WARNING: Feature "heavy petting"! lol

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Chapter 15

RAINY DAY ACTIVITIES

Over the course of those few days that had shortly followed Byron devastating attempt to take a warm shower, the skies had slowly and surely darkened and filled with thick, black clouds that, now, menacingly hung over Zim's house. The air was thick with humidity and the smell of wet dog was carried on the wind. The world had taken on that soothing green tint that was always the prelude to a powerful thunderstorm.

Not caring what the weather was doing, Gaz had run to the store to get a few necessary food staples like microwave pizza, Poop cola, and waffle mix. As for Zim, he was sitting on the couch with Gir in the living room staring at the TV with much vigor and concentration. Having taken some of Byron's previous advice, Zim had started religiously watching The Weather Channel. And so, he sat there glaring at the screen, and longing for Gaz's return, as a tall and hideous human in a puffy coat yelled and screamed over powerful winds about the severity of this incoming storm. All this talk of pressure zones, lines, and cold fronts were totally wasted on Zim. He was only familiar with a "different" type of line or front.

"It's going to be about a ninety-nine percent chance of rain today. So, get out those umbrellas folks! This may be the big one!" Suddenly, a heavy gust knocked the cameraman down and Jim could be heard screaming, "We're all going to die!" With that, the feed went black.

About this time, a blinding flash filled the living room windows that stood next to the couch and a deep, low rumbles resounded afterward. Then, the windows were blocked out by the raging torrent of water that the storm had just unleashed. The clouds had finally ripped apart and were profusely bleeding to death.

Zim dove to the other end of the couch to get as far away from the window as possible and yelled, "CURSE YOU!" and pointed his claw at the TV. He looked over at Gir and said, "I must discover the horrible secret that give the weather minion his power to control the rains! Somehow, HE controls the weather! Mark my words, Jim Cantore, and mark them well, you shall not plague ZIM with your rains of doom forever!" He then abruptly lost his footing on the couch and went crashing to the floor with a humorous thudding sound like a sack of evil, green potatoes.

"Yay!" Gir cheered both happily and supportively and began to madly bounce up and down on the couch while Zim made sure none of his amazing bones were broken.

"Gir," he said while twisting his neck with a few cracking noises, "what did I say to you about jumping on my couch!"

"You didn't say nothing about me jumping on the couch!" Gir lied.

"Oh, okay then." Zim said with appeasement.

There was a rattling sound of the doorknob and the door opened with a crash against the wall. In the doorway, silhouetted against the thunder stood an angry, no, an enraged Gaz. Her clothes stuck to her body and her hair was plastered against her head with dampness. In here arms was a soggy, brown-paper bag of groceries. She stomped in toward the kitchen and the door, seemingly on its own, slammed shut behind her.

"What'd ya' get me?" Gir asked.

"Shut up, Gir," the pair responded simultaneously.

"You want me to help you with that, Gaz?" Zim asked her sweetly.

"No, Zim, everything is wet. You'll just get burned, again," she said from the kitchen.

"Okay," he said and changed the channel mumbling, "Some day, Jim Cantore!"

Meanwhile, down below on the prisoner level, Dib's life hadn't changed much. It still sucked. His changes had finally completed, but when I say, "completed", I only mean that they weren't going to continue. By no stretch of the imagination do I intend to press upon you the assumption that he, too, is now an Irken, for it was quite the contrary. It was an extremely twisted twist of fate that had decided that the painless dose of serum was the defective one, since Byron had originally intended it for himself.

The alterations had only progressed about halfway and had left Dib a horrific creature that a silly person who is obsesses with The Lord of the Rings, which most definitely, I am not, would note a keen resemblance to the character Golem. He was now a disgusting, pale creature with claws, yellowish skin, and red bug-eyes that rested inside his huge, bald head. It was dually ironic, that he now seemed the spitting image of the very type of creature he would have gladly chased down a dark alley in an attempt to capture and experiment on it. Now, he was the experiment.

Over the past few days, he'd employed the services of his newly acquired claws in his new hobby; tunneling. The long tube of dirt punctured the wall of the holding cell and stretched upward through layer upon layer of dirt as it snaked toward the surface. Dib had ignored all other things in his life, save food and bathroom, and focused his every waking hour to attaining his freedom once more. He worked and toiled with such fevered zealous that it was frighteningly similar to Byron's attitude just a week previous.

Then, the days of hard and filthy work culminated into that one glorious moment went Dib's great, red eyes could see s dim light just a few inches ahead of him. With a powerful kick of his boot, he breached the surface of Zim's back yard. Then, for the next few seconds, Dib found himself in an awkward position as he was struggling, upside down in his tunnel, to free his boot from the hole.

With a loud "pop" sound, his boot was free and Dib was free, that is, to tumble back down the some one hundred and seventy-two feet to the bottom of the tunnel. He laid there for a few minutes in a daze. His shoulder was hurting and he looked over to see his arm was twisted at a VERY unnatural angle and was tucked under his back. He stood up, his arm limply swaying at his side and grab hold of it. With a quick jerk, and a nasty snap, he popped the arm back into socket.

Finally, Dib scaled back up the tunnel all the way to the end and squirmed through the hole. He stood up, the grotesque, muddy creature blinking its large eyes.

While she was still in the middle of unloading the soggy groceries, something strange in the backyard caught her eye. "Zim, there's some hideous creature stumbling around in the mud outback. Can I go beat the shit out of it?" she asked sweetly.

"No Gaz, it's probably just one of the insufferable stink-beast neighbors' spawnlings. They tend to get back there every now and then. The lasers'll take care of it," he said with a smile.

Just about that time, three well-placed laser turrets rose up out of the lawn and began to fire at the Dib creature. He jumped and rolled and dodged for all he was worth. If only he had of been like this all those times they'd played dodge ball at skool! He made a break for the fence, still avoiding the rapid fire of the lasers, and quickly jumped over the fence to the alley that ran behind it.

Gaz looked gloomily out the window, "It got away, Zim!"

"I'm sorry, Gaz. Remind me to install some more traps. Those mines should have gone off!" They would have worked, if Zim hadn't have installed them upside down. He got off the couch and walked into the kitchen. He looked out the window to see an empty yard. "Zim sees nothing! It must have been your imagination. Oh, what a GHASTLY imagination you have!"

Gaz wasn't in the mood to enter a full-blown argument with Zim at the moment, so she forced him to help finish putting away the groceries. Once this task was complete, and the two had gotten a snack, they decided the most amply productive thing they could possible do with their free time was to spontaneously start making out right there in the kitchen.

It was an amazing spectacle of lewd conduct and blinding speed and the pair groped each other and appeared to be attempting to eat their partner's face with mad kissing. They bumped against the counter and sent things spilling and crashing into the floor. They knocked over the table and chairs as the traveled, like a tornado, toward the living room. They landed on the couch with a loud squeaking sound and continued on with their fun. Good thing Dib couldn't see this. Suddenly, Zim stopped and looked up to see Gir standing in front of them staring intently.

"Gir, go outside and play in the horrible rain! We're busy! GO NOOOOOOOOOW!" He screamed and waved a fist threateningly at Gir's head.

"Yes, sir!" He saluted and ran madly out the door screaming. It quickly stopped when he discovered there was mud to frolic in. "MUD! Come on Pig, let's play!"

As soon as the door was closed, the human and the alien recommenced their "exercises".

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A/N: So? Did you like it? I hope so! Please leave a review. I'll give you CANDY!


	16. Where's Dib?

A/N: Hello all! Sorry this took so long, but yet again, I'm sick. I worked really hard to bring this too you. I had to walk uphill in the snow, but here it is. I hope you like it.

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Chapter 16

WHERE'S DIB?

During the course of Dib's escape and the resulting "excitement" upstairs, Byron had finally woken up, in the infirmary, after his few days of deep, healing sleep. He'd been burned pretty badly by the shower and was, accordingly, covered in from toe to head in bandages and medical strips to expedite his recovery. He sat up in his little bed and hung his legs over the edge. He looked like an extraterrestrial mummy of doom.

He opened his eyes for the first time in a while that he could remember and quickly shut them again. His vision had changed drastically. The world around him had obtained a somewhat rose tint hue and was brighter and more detailed; his eyes could see in a better resolution and he could even read the fine print on the little bottles that sat on the counter on the other side of the room.

"SO, HOW ARE YOU FEELING?" Vincent asked.

"I'm feelin' good, Vincent. Just needed a nap," he responded.

"A NAP? YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR THREE DAYS! DON'T YOU REMEMBER?"

It was then, that Byron remembered what he'd done. His face lit up with excitement and he began to rip at his bandages. "Oh, it worked, didn't it?" he laughed. "Didn't it?" He continued to unwrap himself like a child would viciously rip into a new present on Christmas morning. After a good seven minutes of work, Byron had successfully removed his bandages and now sat naked on the edge of the bed. Byron marveled at himself. He was an amazing specimen of… and then he looked at his groin.

"Where'd it go! Where is it!" He screamed in horror and his Squeedly spooch took a nosedive that it might not have ever recovered from, if it hadn't been for Vincent.

"CALM DOWN! I GUESS THE WHOLE 'WHOLE OF IRKEN KNOWLEDGE' THING DOESN'T INCLUDE SEX ED," Vincent sighed.

"Where is it! TELL ME!" Byron screamed and waved his arms around an extremely humorous, and naked, spectacle.

"YOU'RE PERFECTLY NORMAL! WELL, AS FAR 'NORMAL' AS A HUMAN THAT DID WHAT YOU DID CAN BE!" Vincent could tell that this wasn't comforting Byron in the least, so he reiterated, with a long and DETAILED lesson in Irken genders that would not only be redundant to the reader, but also so traumatic and scarring mentally, that I dare not divulge it to you. But, I will tell you that one of the many things Vincent told him involved the phrase, "IT'LL POP OUT WHEN YOU NEED IT."

So, after "the talk", relief shone in Byron's glossy eyes and he exclaimed, "Thank God!" With this worry out of his large, green head, Byron walked into the bathroom to look in the mirror.

Slowly, at first, a large smile crept across his face as he gazed at his reflection. Still very tall, the Irken stood there and reached up, with a giddy claw, and touched an antenna. The sensations sent a shiver down his spine and he quickly snatched his hand away as the long, black limb curled away from his touch. He started dancing in place with excitement, "Success! I am successful! At last, I am an IRKEN!" He then paused and said, rather off the topic I might add, "Hey, I don't have any nipples!"

Vincent mentally slapped himself across the face, so to say, and said, "THAT'S FASCINATING! HOW ABOUT SOME CLOTHES?"

Byron pondered this for a moment and decided that clothing would probably be the best thing for him. And so, Byron was given a standard issue invader's uniform, boots, and, of course, gloves. Seeing no sense in going into a private are to dress, since any dignity he had betwixt him and Vincent was present as his masculinity, he dressed where he stood. It was a tight fit, being as tall as he was, but Byron was pleased with the uniform. He, again, looked in the mirror and straightened out the wrinkles and pulled on his gloves.

"OOH!" He shouted, "I wonder what Dib's doing!" Without further conversation, Byron ran to the holding level to see what had become of Zim's and his mutual nemesis. When he got there, he unlocked the cell door, picked up the beating stick that was propped up next to the door, incase Dib became combative, and peaked inside. His jaw hit the floor, well actually his chest, but anyway, at what he saw. Instead of a miserable Irken with a gargantuan head sitting and moping on his bed, there was a gaping hole in the wall and the noticeable and complete lack of Dib. "VINCENT! Dib has escaped! He's gone!" He yelled in a panic.

"WHAT?" Vincent asked.

"He's not here! He's fled the scene! Are bereft of the bigheaded experiment! Understand?"

"YOU HAD ME AT 'HE'S NOT HERE'! WHERE'D HE GO?"

"How should I know! He dug a tunnel and a vamoosed!" Byron yelled and slammed his fist against the wall.

"AMAZING! HOW DID HE GET HIS HEAD TO FIT THROUGH THERE!"

Byron was also wondering how that feat was accomplished, but now was not the time! "I must tell Zim! Please take me to the surface level, Vincent." Even though he was located, of course, many floors below the surface, Byron sank through a hole in the floor, as he always seems to do, and headed for the living room. 'I can't believe this happened! I can't be bothered with these trivial tasks! I have more important things to attend to! YOU'LL PAY, Dib! Oh, how you shall pay!'

He screamed as he ran for the nearest elevator, "Vincent, take me to the armory at once! Oh, uh, please."

"AS YOU WISH!" Byron rocketed his way toward his destination.

"This is the last time you attempt to stop me, Dib! Ooh, what plans I have for you! But if you try to lecture me again, I'll just kill you!" He yelled to himself as if Dib were in the elevator with him.

Meanwhile, upstairs on the living room couch, Gaz and Zim had finally found a way to pass the rainy day. Had they been able to hear the narration, the might have paused from their activities to not that the narrator's previous statement had rhymed.

"Oh, Zim!"

"Oh, Gaz!"

"Oh, Zim!"

"Oh, Gaz!"

"Oh, Zim!"

"Oh, Gaz!"

"OH, GOD!" Byron screamed as he walked through the doorway of the kitchen. He stood there, dripping with pasted and covered in weapons, staring at Zim and Gaz fooling around on the couch.

"Ah, Byron!" Zim yelled trying to save his dignity. "What do you need that is so important that you must interrupt the MIGHTY ZIM while he's 'busy'!"

"Dib's escaped! Now go get some paste on and help me find him before we're revealed!"

"Byron, I'm not pleased at all by this," Gaz hissed.

"I'm terribly and unimaginably sorry, Gaz, but you understand the magnitude of the situation. Do you want me and, more importantly, Zim strapped to an autopsy table?" Byron said in an attempt to make his point.

"Fine, just hurry. I'm bored," she said and pulled her Game Slave out from under the couch and began to furiously pound on it.

A few minutes later, Byron and Zim where both standing in the front doorway, both covered in weaponry and dripping with paste. "We'll be back soon, Gaz," Zim said and the two ran off into the rain.

"Dib shall pay!" Gaz mumble and then lost herself in her game.

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A/N: Uh-oh. What's going to happen? I smell another dramatic chase. And, in the next chapter, I'll be introducing a new character. Hooray! PLease leave a review if you like my story, or me for that matter! I'll buy you stuff! PLEASE REVIEW!


	17. The Thrill Of The Hunt

A/N: I'm very happy with this chapter. I, personally, think it's very funny. It also features several minor characters from the show. If you can guess them all, you'll get a prize!

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Chapter 17

THE THRILL OF THE HUNT

The rain had started to come down harder now and the sun had come out from behind a cloud. The alley Dib was hiding in was very humid and had a smell like a wet dog. Not that the alley behind McMeaties ever smelled good. He wasn't really bothered by this smell since he was busy digging through a dumpster for food. Dib was fortunate enough, not only to find a few chunks of fresh space meat, but also enough used aprons to fashion a primitive set of clothes.

He heard the doorknob rattle as someone inside was trying to come out into the alley, more than likely to investigate the commotion that was taking place in the dumpster. Then, out charged an old man with a burger-hat on his head. "You, get away from the SPAAAACE MEEEAT!" He yelled and pulled an old revolver out of his uniform.

'Is he supposed to have one of those,' Dib thought as he scrambled behind the dumpster for cover. It seemed all those hours of sci-fi combat rping had paid off.

The man fired his gun and screamed, "Come back here you damn meat thief!" The bullet missed Dib by a few inches and ricocheted of a wall and hit a gas main. At this, Dib scurried away in search of another hiding spot. "Gil, call animal control! We got a meat-thieving mutants infestation!" Failing to notice the intense and almost overpowering aroma of gas in the air, the clerk fire one more shot for good measure. The fireball and ensuing mushroom cloud could be seen four miles away, which, as it just so happens, was where Zim and Byron were.

As the ball of flame and charred space meat rose gracefully into the air like a flaming ballerina of doom, the two aliens looked at each other and with a nod they replied to the other, "Dib!"

Dib was hiding in the crawl space of a local home. He'd gorged himself on all the available bugs that had lived under the house and finally put his apron clothes together. He was trying to figure out a plan to escape and then it hit him, "Ughraasm!" he exclaimed and then realized that, since he no longer had proper, functioning vocal chords, he could not exclaim, to no one in particular, his plans and thoughts. 'I'll have to get to dad's house. He must have the equipment to make me normal again!' he thought. 'Then, Byron and Zim shall pay! I MUST save Gaz!' With this, he crawled back outside into the rain. Standing in the mud for a few seconds, Dib finally jump onto the side of the house and scaled the wall to the roof. From there, he got his bearings and began his journey, by rooftop, to his house.

"He's moving!" Byron yelled at Zim while he stared at the tracking monitor.

"Why didn't I think to implant a homing chip in his large head?" Zim asked his hunting partner.

"Because YOU didn't think it possible for him to escape, even though he's escaped from you how many times was it again?" Byron asked arrogantly.

"Eh, uh… seven?"

"Precisely! Every time you underestimate him and every time he gets away. NOT THIS TIME! Hear me, Dib! This is your last escape!" Byron yelled and pointed his claw into the air. He and Zim were completely oblivious to the crowd of people that were now staring at them.

"I know where he's heading!" Byron declared.

"Where?" Zim was fidgeting nervously. If they stayed out in the rain for too long, the paste would wear off.

"Professor membrane's house!" With this, the pair trudged on in the pouring rain. There pursuit far from the absolution they both anticipated.

The front door, after several minutes of fierce digging in the lock, swung open. Dib trudged inside and quickly made his way down to Professor Membrane's lab. As if sent by Nixon himself to the Watergate Hotel, Dib began to rummage through any available area of the lab in his frantic search. It had taken him twenty minutes before he had everything set up and ready to begin the procedure. He looked up at the computer and read to himself, 'Serum will be fully developed in: two hours!"

Dib couldn't believe this. How could his father's machines be so slow? What would he do for two hours? He went upstairs to see what was in the fridge. He made himself a sandwich and got a can of Poop cola and walked into the living room. Something seemed off. He set his food down and looked around the room. 'Hmmm. TV, couch, table, two menacing aliens standing in the door…what!" Dib started at the sight and instantly went into flight mode. He'd have to escape and avoid them for two hours. That's all he needed. He bolted up the stair with Byron and Zim in tow. Dib made somewhat humorous sicky and gurgling noises as he tried to scream.

"Come on, Zim! We've got ourselves a hunt!" Byron whooped and yelled as he charged up the stair with a net in one hand and a stun gun in the other.

Zim would have been right behind him if he hadn't tripped and fallen back down the stairs. "Go on! Don't let him get away!" Zim yelled as he lay in the floor.

Dib frantically kicked open the door to his room and ran for the window. Without realizing that it was already open, Dib picked up a chair and tossed it through the window. Not stopping to look surprised, Dib dove out the window and, to his great horror, landed on the chair. Byron stood in the window and laughed as he turned around and headed back down the stairs.

"Get up, Zim! He's getting away!" Byron yelled as he ran down the stairs and, without realizing it, landed with his boot in Zim's groin as he flew out the door. Zim rolled around on the floor in agony for a few minutes before he picked himself up and ran after his comrade.

For the time being, Dib had lost his pursuers. It had been a good hours chase before he was sure enough to slow his pace. He looked around for the first time in a while and tried to get his bearings. Dib had, by some twist of fate, found his way to the city mall. He looked up at the large sign reading, 'PARKING ENTRANCE'.

'It's my only chance,' he though, 'I've gotta' get out of the open street. Maybe THEY will grant me sanctuary!'

Without another moment wasted, Dib ran for the entrance and dove over the gate. The zit-faced teenager working in the booth just stared and yelled, "Damn rat people! I should really call the exterminator," he paused for a moment. "Huh, maybe if the paid me more!" he chuckled and returned to his Game Slave.

The garage was just as Dib remembered it. It was unnaturally cold and dark. It was almost like a cave. Water dripped from the ceiling and drifted about in the many puddles of oil and antifreeze. Dib thought he could hear voices. Every so often, he would catch a glimpse of a strange figure darting between the cars and into the shadows. Finally, Dib found a broken muffler on the floor of the garage and began banging it against the walls and cars in the hope of getting THEIR attention. It wasn't long before Dib could hear the familiar squeaks and skittering sounds of THE RAT PEOPLE!

They appeared from behind the parked cars. Crawling low to the ground in their investigation of the racket. Their large, red eyes, which were very similar to Dib's, glowed with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Several rat children followed behind them.

'Thank God!' Dib thought. 'The horrible rat people who live in the mall garage! I only hope they remember me.' Dib thought as he sat there on his knees looking at the approaching mutants.

One of the older ones of the group scurried up to him and laid a claw on Dib's face. He gazed into his red eyes and a look of realization washed over his face. "It is he, the big-headed child from long ago!" he announced.

"Long ago! Long ago!" several of the other rat people chanted.

Dib thought to himself, 'My head is not big!'

"As we foretold, he has become like us!"

Several of the other rat people began to chant, "Like us! Like us!"

A taller rat person, who appeared to be the colony's leader stepped forward and said, "Welcome, oh rodent brother. You are now one of us!"

"One of us! One of us!"

Despite how bizarre the entire situation was, Dib decided to play along. He bowed graciously to his new, temporary family and pulled out a notepad in an attempt to communicate with the rat people. He only hoped that at least one of them remembered how to read.

As he scribbled down a short version of what had happened, one of the female rat people chimed in, "I was once a man!" She covered her face with her claws in disgust and cried.

In response, another rat person said, "Shut up! Every time we get company, you try to scare them away with your 'I was once a man' bullshit! Just shut up before we eat you! Food's scarce and now we have another mouth to feed! We'll do it!" The other rat person slumped her shoulders and lumbered over to an especially dark corner sadly.

Dib handed the leader his note pad. He looked down over it and began to read aloud, to Dib's relief, what it said, "His name is Dib! He is as we are; half rodent, half man," the leader said.

"Half rodent, half man! Half rodent, half man!"

Their leader continued, "He hasn't any voice-making-thingies in his throat, so he must communicate through the tablet!" He declared and held up the little smiley-faced notebook. "He says he is being pursued by the five-finger men from the world above," the leader said and pointed one of his hairy claws up at the concrete ceiling.

This was met with many chants of, "The world above! The world above!"

Another said, "So bright! So warm! We never go there!"

"Silence!" The leader squeaked. "He asks us for protection and shelter. We cannot deny our brother what he requests! He is a part of the colony! He is one of us!"

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard approaching. Dib tensed up and prepared to run. The leader grabbed his arm and said, "Come with me, Brother. We will take you to the sanctuary!"

"Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

As the headed deeper into the garage, the leader asked, "Must you repeat everything I say?"

"Repeat! Repeat!"

Just as they left, the figure in the darkness became visible. "Damn, rat people! Every time I try to check the meters they freak out!" the repairman said to himself and tossed a huge brick of Swiss cheese in the direction the rat people had headed.

"Hurry, Zim! He is close! I can almost smell him!" Byron announced as they stood outside the mall. "He's inside!"

"Finally!" Zim declared as steam began to rise off of him. "The paste is beginning to wear off! Let's get inside!"

The two dashed into the mall entrance. Neither of them were prepared for the unspeakable, mind warping horrors of unspeakable horror that lay beyond the doors ahead. "Welcome to the twenty-seventh annual Tri-state Sci-fi Convention!" Yelled a fat woman with nappy brown hair, a band-aid on her face, and a large red t-shirt with a flying saucer on it. "My name is Trudy and I'm a member of The Children of the Bright and Shinning Saucer!" She happily declared.

"Eh!" Zim stumbled back as he remembered her being one of the many stupid humans who had almost foiled his attempts at retrieving his Voot cruiser. 'What if she remembers me?' he thought as panic swept over him.

"Say, you look familiar. Have we met before?"

Byron quickly tried to defuse the situation. "No, of course you haven't! This is my cousin, Boris! He's from Russia and doesn't speak any English. Isn't that right Boris?" Byron asked Zim.

"Uh," Zim replied, more in confusion than playing along with Byron's charade.

"Oh," Trudy said. She then said to "Boris" slowly, "Have - a - swell - time - in - America!"

Zim just looked at her fearfully.

"Well, I hope you fella's enjoy the convention! And I love your costumes!" She shouted. Neither Zim nor Byron had realized that, in all the hustle and bustle of the hunt, their disguises had fallen off.

"Uh, thanks. Thanks a lot," Byron answered confusedly with a very unctuous grin.

"There's free food and you have to register over there," Trudy said and pointed to a table that was made to look like a papier-mâché saucer.

"Thanks again, Trudy," Byron said as they walked over to the table. "You know her, Zim?" he asked.

"No! I don't want to talk about it!" he quickly said defensively.

As they waited in the line for registration, Byron looked around to see, as far as the Irken eye can see, thousands of nerds all dressed as aliens and robots and many other characters who are obviously protected under international copy right laws mulling about and talking.

A large fat guy in a sweater-like uniform walked up to Byron and said, "I am Volax, Captain First Class of the Interstellar Frigate Jhonen-12!" He declared proudly and saluted. "Who are you?"

Caught a bit off guard, Byron quickly thought up a plausible lie and said, "I'm Invader Bile from the planet Irk. And this is my co-invader, Zim!" Technically, since the dude would never believe that this was the truth, Byron was lying. "We are proud and mighty invaders from the planer Irk and we have come to DECIMATE this pathetic ball of stinky dirt stuff!"

"Oh," Volax said, a bit put off. "Cool costumes!" He declared in an attempt to rekindle their conversation.

Byron moved up a spot in the line and said, "Thanks, our mom made them," he lied again.

"You live with your mom too? COOL!" He yelled.

Byron gave another unctuous smile and thought, 'You shall pay for this, Dib! YOU SHALL PAY!'

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A/N: Never thought it would come to this did you? Hahaha! I couldn't help it. I love the rat people, they're SO funny. Anyway, I hope you like this. Please review. Regardless of what I said, the next chapter will introduce the new character and will feature a co-author whose name will not be mentioned until LATER! Ooh, suspense! Please review!


	18. Dib The Horrible Rat Boy!

Chapter 18

DIB THE HORRIBLE RAT BOY

"I don't understand why we have to were these!" Zim grumbles as he fought valiantly with the sticky side of his nametag. The stupid registration slave had spelled it "Zehm", which was fancier, but also very, very wrong!

"We just have to play along with their ways so we'll blend in," Byron said. "You do know you've got it on up-side-down, right?" He asked Zim.

"Of course I do! How else am I supposed to read it?"

Byron rolled his eyes and explained the concept of nametags as he fixed Zim's. "Understand now?"

"I supposed," Zim said. He looked away from Byron to see the decadent spectacle of Sci-fi nerddom. "What is all this? Is it a gathering of alien species for the pursuit of PEACE?" Zim asked almost choking on the last word.

"No, this is a convention where… you have those right?"

"Yes, yes. The MIGHTY Irken Empire has conventions! We have assignings, blood sports, and all types of AMAZING stuff like that! But this is not a convention! Where are the giant X-rays and the lasers and smoke machines! And there's no floating head that's telling me where to go! THIS is not a convention!" Deep down in his Squeedly spooch, all this talk of conventions and smoke machines made him miss home. He'd been gone so long; he'd almost forgotten what it was like for a second. He shook his sadness of like an old, wool coat. He couldn't appear weak while amongst this herd of human-pig-smellies!

"Okay then. But you do understand the concept?" Byron asked.

"Of course Zim understands! There is nothing too complex that would baffled my AMAZING brain meats!" He yelled.

"Anyway, we do conventions a little differently here. On Earth, strange humans who live in their parents' basements and have nothing better to do than dress up as aliens and robots congregate at meeting areas to talk about their obsessions," Byron said. "They can be quite entertaining."

"Entertaining?" Zim asked. "Where is the blood? Where's the victorious champion ripping out the loser's Squeedly spooch? THIS is not entertainment! I am not entertained!" Zim yelled.

"Okay, fine, Zim! Human conventions are far inferior to those held by the Irken Elite. Just remember to use your inside voice, okay?" Byron said in a bland tone. He was getting tired of having to tell Zim to stop screaming every thought that went rattling around in his head.

"Fine, human! I'll whisper," Zim said in a slightly louder-than-normal-talking voice.

"Good," Byron said and patted Zim on the head. At this point, the narrator, again, delighted in the fact that another sentence had rhymed.

The pair of aliens stood at the main entrance to the convention area and gazed in both shock and amazement as the crowd mixed and churned like a seething crock-pot of nerds.

It was like George Lucas and Gene Roddenberry's worst nightmares brought into the world of living flesh. Byron had never even fathomed that there could be THIS many overweight Dr. Spocks and Chewbaccas in the same room! It was a truly mind-fucking sight.

The room may have been filled with geeks and nerds, but the walls were lined with booths selling an array of items. One was selling collectible plates and cards while another was a Captain Kirk kissing booth.

"The horror! The horror!" Zim whispered. The very gusto and bravado in his voice was stolen away by what he was surrounded by.

Byron slowly leaned down next to Zim's antennae and said in a low voice, "Relax, Zim! They can smell fear!"

Zim took this warning to heart and, again, took faith in the idea that his superior Irken breeding and training would salvage the day. "Zim is not afraid! Why would you think that? I…AHHHHHHHHHH!" He began to scream as a Borg, which Zim mistook as a Planet Jacker, walked by.

Byron decided that it best to take Zim to the nearest bathroom and try to calm him down. He grabbed him by the back of his collar and dragged the still screaming Irken toward the men's room door. Several people, by this point, were staring intently at the scene.

As Zim and Byron were experiencing their first sci-fi convention, Dib was settling into his new home with the rat people. After the meter man had shown up, the group retreated back to their inner sanctum that resided deep in the bowels of the parking garage. When they arrived, Dib could not believe his eyes. It was like a small town. The rat people had constructed a village of old, abandoned cars.

"This, Dib, is the sanctuary!" The leader declared with great pride.

"Sanctuary! Sanctua…"

"Enough!" The leader hissed. "We already discussed this during the walk back! No more repeating me!"

"Fine! Fine!"

As the group approached, more and more rat people began to emerge from the many vehicles that littered the area. They all converged into what could be described as a "town square", even though it was more like a pentagon.

"I, your great leader, Ratticus Rex, have discovered a newcomer from the world above! He is as we are! He is one of the colony now!"

As Ratticus Rex spoke to his colony, Dib couldn't help but think, 'His name is Ratticus Rex? How lame is that?'

"Hey," Ratticus Rex said as he looked at a rat person who was happily munching on a large piece of Swiss cheese, "Where'd you get THAT?"

"I found it!" He chirped merrily as he continued to devour the cheese.

Ratticus Rex snatched it from his mouth and slapped him across the face. "That's for being stupid!"

"Sorry," he sulked.

"It's alright, just don't let it happen again!" Ratticus Rex said sternly.

Dib was very confused now. He was VERY confused.

"Welcome new one! We are the rat people and we welcome you to our colony!"

"Gol, I have a feeling he's already figured that out," Ratticus Rex stated. Dib had begun to develop a theory that the rat people were just about as bright as the garage they lived in.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry," The one named Gol said and sat down on his haunches.

Ratticus Rex looked down at Dib and said, "We must find you a better set of clothes, Dib! You look like you're wearing greasy aprons!" He laughed. Dib wasn't all that amused.

He was lead over to a rusted out Hippy Van that was full of rags and old suitcases. "These are the bounties we have claimed from the vacationers. All the luggage that has fallen from their station wagons now belongs to the rat people!"

"Vacationers! Vacationers!"

Dib crawled into the van and the door closed behind him. He found a flashlight on the floor and fixedly began to ruffle through the clothes. After about five minutes, Dib emerged from the van in a pair of bellbottom jeans and a shirt that said, "I "heart" UFO's!".

Dib could see his reflection in a hubcap and the sight brought one word to his mind, 'Gay!' he thought.

"Come, Dib. We shall find you something to eat," Ratticus Rex said.

Dib was lead to an area of the "village" that was apparently set aside for dining. It was actually pretty sophisticated, as far as rat people go. They had figured out a way to cook with fire and keep the smoke from backing up in the garage. I'd go into graphic detail about how the system works, but I honestly don't understand how it works.

Dib sat at the table with his new friends and waited for what he could only imagine to be the most revolting meal he'd ever have. He was right. It looked like a green, stringy blob of something Dib couldn't figure out to be. It didn't smell as bad as it looked, and, to Dib's fortune, it didn't taste as bad as it smelled. In fact, it was pretty good.

'Pretty damn good!' Dib thought.

"I'm going to lay eggs in your stomach!" Byron said distantly.

"Eh?" Zim asked. He wasn't quite sure why Byron had said this, but he knew, after much research, that it was physically impossible for an Irken to accomplish.

"That's what his shirt says! Get a load of this," Byron said and pointed to the hundredth fat guy he'd seen over the course of forty seconds. "I'm gonna' buy one of those!" He paused for a moment and continued, "And then Dib will PAY!"

"Fine, let's go get a shirt and then we'll find the Dib-stink. I can't even…OOH they have nachos!" Zim exclaimed as his eyes came upon the snack area. "I'll be right back!"

Before Byron could say another word, Zim had vanished into the mob. "Oh, well. I'll find him later. Hey, Bill, where'd you get that t-shirt?"

It was several hours later when Dib was taken to his own car to sleep in. It was a fifty-seven Chevy Bel Air and the backseat was one of the most comfortable surfaces Dib had ever slept on. It wasn't long before he drifted off into sleepy land. All the thoughts of the serum and becoming normal again drifted away with him. Besides, he liked it here. He was accepted here. For the first time in his life, he BELONGED somewhere. In the first time since he could remember, Dib was truly happy.

"Shhh! I think they're all asleep!" Byron whispered to Zim. They'd lost track of time during the convention. The two had finally gotten back to their all-important mission and were quickly tracking Dib down like a dog.

"Okay, okay! I'm quiet!" Zim responded. He was still happily eating his tray of grande size nachos and cheese.

The two stood on the "outskirts" of the rat people's village. Byron looked down at the tracker screen and said, "He's in one of the cars, Zim. Start looking," Byron ordered. He pulled out a pistol and said, "I'll cover you."

His military training kicking in, Zim began to scout from car to car. He made sure that not one of their occupants was awakened during his search.

Dib thought he heard something outside the car. He came out from under his snugly blanket just in time to have the barrel of a gun jammed in his face.

Dib tried to scream for help, but, as usual, his vocal chords didn't work. Dib tried to snatch the gun from Byron's hand but all that earned him was a swift punch in the face and a gloved hand gripped around his throat.

"Zim, I found the little shit! Come on!" Byron whispered triumphantly.

Zim quickly whipped around and came running toward Byron. "Good, we can get out of here now!" He turned his gaze to Dib and gave him a good kick square in the gut.

Dib collapsed to the ground and Zim grabbed him by the antennae and the pair proceeded toward the exit.

Byron reached down and slung Dib over his shoulder. "I could have sworn I heard something back there! Let's get moving!"

From deep back in the garage, both Byron and Zim could hear a shrill voice scream, "The Dib! The Dib is gone! The damn cockroach people have stolen him!"

Byron and Zim didn't need to be told twice to run for it. The entire trek out of the garage, they could hear the sound of scurrying behind them. Then finally, they emerged into the sunlight and their safety was certain.

Now that they were in better visibility, Dib could see his captors better. Both of them were clad from toe to head in as much worthless Sci-fi convention souvenirs as they could carry. Byron had on a visor, sunglasses, and a t-shirt that said, 'I'm going to lay eggs in your stomach!'. Zim had on a hat that looked like a flying saucer, sunglasses, several light-up necklaces, and a nacho-stained t-shirt with Alf on it. It also goes without saying that they had several bags filled with collectible memorabilia and other junk. By far, this was Zim's most convincing disguise. Dib couldn't help but smile at the two morons that had caught him. This only made them angrier and earned him another kick; only this time, it was lower.

As Dib rolled around on the asphalt, Byron hocked up a large, green lougy and spat on the ground. "You gave us quite a chase there, Dib. You almost got away. But you should have known that you'd never be able to escape the superior Irkens. And you," Byron paused and looked over at Zim. "You know what, it's late and I'm tired. I'm not really in the mood for gloating, how about you?"

Zim shook his head. "You're right. It is late. And I'm tired too. You want to just beat the slark out of him and finish him in the morning?"

Byron grinned and said, "You read my mind!"

"Really?" Zim asked.

"No, not really. It's just an expression.

Zim was a little downhearted by this, but his mood quickly recovered as the two began to beat the shit out of Dib. When they were both satisfied and Dib was unconscious, Byron called for LU to come and pick them up. After a few minutes of waiting, LU appeared from the sky and took them home.

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A/N: Special message to any potential Dib fan-girls, please don't hurt me! I don't like Dib, but I promise I WILL NOT kill him! I promise! With that said. Please leave a review! Please oh please! I worked so hard! And of course:

© Borg, Dr. Spock, and Captain Kirk to Gene Roddenberry

© Chewbacca to George Lucas

© Alf to…uh,…?


	19. Sora: The OTHER Hideous New Girl!

A/N: This chapter dedicated to DarkShadow1818 and HeavenSentHellBroken! You both know why!

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Chapter 19

SORA: THE OTHER HIDEOUS NEW GIRL!

A five-mile walk later, Byron and Zim returned to the base, basking in triumph of their exploits. They had taken off most of the crap they'd purchased at the convention. It had mainly been bought to blend in in the first place, but the fact they they caught sight of themselves in a window on the way home also weighed heavily in their decision. When they entered the room, they found, not just Gaz and Gir, but a strange girl who neither of them had laid eyes on before now, sitting in the living room. It would not have been such a problematic situation, or a shock for that matter, if either of the horrific alien invaders had been wearing their disguises. But alas, it was not so!

The young woman was sitting on the couch reading a little, black book and eating from a bag of candy corn that sat next to her. She looked up from the book and said, ""Oh, sup?" She looked at the two aliens in front of her and twisted her face into a half grin that flashed her pair of unnaturally pointy canines.

Zim looked over at Byron with a panicked expression that said, 'Who is this!"

Byron shrugged in response and said, "Don't look at me, I've never seen her before."

Deciding to go with the trend of looking over at the person next to you and whispering, the girl leaned over next to Gaz and said, "So, these are the two?"

"Yeah," Gaz answered.

The girl laughed and exclaimed, "Proverbial human traitor and his alien comrade, I presume." The girl stood up and forcefully grabbed Zim's hand and began to hastily shake it. "Nice to meet you, when do I get a pair of those?" She asked and pointed at Zim's antennae.

"Who is this!" Zim yelled.

Gaz looked at him and said, "This is my friend, Sora. She's knows everything, so don't try to kick her out! And you better not wipe her mind like you did my last friend."

He looked at her in a confused manner and began to yell and wave his fists wildly, "Get away from me, stink-human! Leave my stupendous base this instant, before I..."

"Zim!" Gaz said. "She's my friend and you will be nice to her!"

"But she'll compromise my AMAZING mission! She'll..." Gaz glared at him with a devious look in her eye. "Fine!" He huffed in defeat.

"Put her on the list, Byron. NOW!" Gaz hissed and then returned to her Game Slave.

Byron sighed and pulled a small note pad marked 'Saved List' out of his Pak. "Fine, Gaz. I'll add her to the list," he said and opened it to reveal the almost-totally blank pages of the "Saved List". At the top, under 'Gaz', he scribbled down, 'Sora' in his new language. "Happy, Gaz?"

"No, I'm never happy. You should know that by now."

"Aw, how sweet!" Sora said and looked at Zim. "Can I?" she asked and pointed at his antennae. Before Zim could respond, Sora was happily trying to climb onto Zim's head and rub one of his antennae. "Wow! They are real!" She laughed.

"You'll have to excuse Sora," Gaz said, "she's rather insane; nice, but totally and irretrievably INSANE!"

"I'm a health-hazard to society!" she said grinning again. "I'm also way into science. I love to experiment on things...more or less. The only two humans that stand in my way are Professor Membrane... and that horrible Bill Nye the science guy! CURSE his bow tie and mesmerizing theme song of doom!"

"Told you!" Gaz said vindicated.

Byron smiled and stuck out his hand, "Well, from one social disease to another, it's nice to make your acquaintance!" He smiled and showed his mouth full of zipper-like teeth.

"Like wise. Hey, freaks of a feather destroy all man-kind together!"

Byron looked at Gaz and said, "I liked her! She's got spunk!" He then turned back to Sora and said, "In a few months, man-kind will all be smoldering piles of ash. MISSION ASH!" He declared with a balled up fist.

She cracks a wicked grin, "Sounds sweet!" She eyes Zim. "So, what's it like where you come from?" she asked Zim.

"Er?"

"Zim doesn't use many big words when he's confused." Byron said and patted Zim on the back.

"Ahhhhhhh! I don't have my contact lenses in! Where's my wig!" Zim snapped out of his frightened trance and instantly realized that, even though it was far too late, he was completely exposed.

"See?"

She snickered, "Wow, that's... interesting." Sora looked at the pair for a moment and then asked, "So, what do you need me to help out with?"

"Nothing! The Mighty Zim does not need YOUR help! I need no..."

"Shut up, Zim! I said be nice, so quit yelling at Sora or I won't do that thing you like me to do!" She scowled and then winked at Zim.

"Too much information!" Byron and Sora yelled at the same time.

Zim's flesh paled slightly at the mentioning of this and quickly said, "Fine, worm-baby! You can...h-h-he-e-elp. Ah! It's on my tongue!" Zim yelled and tried to wring the nasty word out his tongue.

Her eyes slightly widened when Zim's tongue became visible. "Whoa... that's killer! What kinda' stuff can you do with that tongue?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!" chuckled Gaz.

"You can chuckle?" Byron asked confusedly.

"I see... well in that case, I'm gonna find a place and park my ass and read my comics..." She glances at Zim one last time, "Oh, and in the event of say... disaster would strike and you would need someone intelligent to be rid yourself of The DIB... feel free to hire me." She shrugged and sat down in an easy chair. She pulled out a comic and intently began reading it with the occasional chuckle coming from behind it.

"Oh, that reminds me!" Byron exclaimed and walked outside. "I left the little fella' out in the cold!" He laughed as he walked back in with something over his shoulder. It was Dib, obviously because of the size of the head, and he was wrapped up in a net. Byron dropped him on the floor with a sicky thud sound and Byron said, "Vincent, see that our visitor, the big-headed one, is made 'comfortable', if you get my meaning."

"YES, SIR!" Vincent said and Dib was lowered through the floor.

"Bye, Dib," Gaz hissed at her unconscious brother.

There was a short moment of awkward silence, seeing how there was a new face amongst this good company, and the Byron said, "What's on TV?"

Ah, TV! If only more people in the soon-to-be-destroyed world would forget about their differences and just watch TV together, the world would be a far more peaceful, and overweight, place!

Byron couldn't help but wonder, as he sat and watched TV, how he never noticed this fascinating young woman while he was in skool. For a brief moment, he has an awkward thought, but then remembered his previous commitments to Tak and quickly pushed them from his mind. While Byron pondered to himself, Sora reached into her army-style backpack and pulled out a can of Poop cola.

"Tonight on Hard Point: Aliens, do they exists? We don't think so, you decide." Said the little man in the bad suit with the even worse toupee on the TV.

Instantly, the four were completely transfixed. Byron, Sora, and Gaz were very much amused by the irony of this; Zim was paranoid about being exposed.

As the show went on, a rather professional looking professor was dragged in to be accosted with surprisingly stupid questions by a twerpy looking guy in a suit that was, surprisingly, worse than the previous man's suit.

"Do you believe that there are aliens in the Universe or, for that matter, on Earth? If so, do you think they come in peace?" He asked.

The professional looking professor paused for a moment to have a quick puff on his pipe and then said, with smoke wafting from his mouth, "It is in my firm and scientifically sound opinion, that there are "aliens", as you put it, in the Universe. But, it is also my opinion that they are not here on Earth, at the moment."

"That's comforting, but what about them being peaceful? You haven't responded to that," said the little twerp of a reporter.

The professor adjusted his glasses and said, "That all depends. If they are a race of brutish monsters that have barely advanced, then most definitely, they would be of a war-like nature. Much like the Aztecs of the fifteenth century. But, if they are an enlightened race with abundant technology, then they are most certainly peaceful and desire the pursuit of further knowledge and peace."

With this, all four of the viewers in Zim's living room began to laugh. "What a crock of horse shit!" Byron cheered.

Zim was laughing so hard, the only word he could manage to say was, "Pathetic!"

Gaz and Sora both rolled about in their respective places on the couch. Unfortunately, Sora forgot about the Poop cola she was drinking and it soon found itself the lucky recipient of a one-way trip to the floor. The can rattled about as it sprayed its contents into the air. A small droplet of soda arched through the air across the room and, like a kamikaze fighter pilot, landed squarely in Zim's face. He fell into the floor rolling around screaming as a small trail of steam rose into the air.

Sora watched wide eyed and quickly said, "Oh damn! Sorry 'bout that Zim! I should have paid more attention! Shit like that happens all the time to me!"

"He'll be fine." Gaz said. Within a few minutes, Zim got back into his chair, leaving his dignity sprawled in the floor, grumbling about 'humans and their water-based slark-beverages'.

"Oh yea?" She starts to smart-mouth. "Well what's Irken soda like?"

"Like all things Irken, it's far superior to your smelly Earth-soda-thingies," Zim said with a tone in his voice and a superior grin on his face. "And it doesn't burn the flesh from my MIGHTY skull! Oh, how mighty the skull of Zim is!" He added.

Sora grinned, "Can I have some?" Zim's ranting had planted a seed of interest in her mind. But, unlike most seeds of interest, since this seed was being of an alien nature, this once sprouted quickly like a weed.

"No! It's mine!" Zim yelled. Then a thought drifted through his head. 'What is it burns her alive from the inside? Ooh, what wonderful fun of DOOM that would be!' "On second thought, of course you can, oh wonderful Earth-stink guest of mine!"

"Thanks, Zim. You're not so hateful and filled with spite after all!" Sora chirped happily and tossed her comic in the floor. She got up and walked into the kitchen. After a few seconds of rummaging through the refrigerator, she returned with a black can with that all-too-familiar red symbol we all know and love.

She popped the top and had a quick sniff. She took a sip and let it sit in her mouth as if it were a fine wine. After she tasted the soda to her satisfaction, she quickly swallowed, cleared her throat, and calmly said, "HOLY SHIT THIS IS THE BEST SODA EVER! IT'S LIKE POOP COLA AND AN ENERGY DRINK ALL IN ONE!" So much for calmly speaking!

"Oh, god," Byron and Gaz say at the same time. Now she was going to be even more of a spaz!

Then, Sora suddenly gasped and fell to the floor, gagging and twitching madly for a few seconds before laying still. This, for Zim, was a kind of entertainment that no amount of monies could ever purchase! Stirring from her motionless state, Sora continued to spasm and foam at the mouth.

"Hahaha! The pathetic human is no match for the AMAZINGNESS of Zim's soda!"

"Shut up, Zim! Your gloating is stupid!" Gaz snarled and hurled the bag of candy corn at him.

"Ahhh! It's in my eye!" Zim screamed as he desperately tried to dig that cursed piece of candy corn out from his eye.

While all this was happening, Byron attempted to take charge of the situation as Sora continued on with her soda-induced seizure. "Vincent," Byron said nonchalantly, as if he anticipated this, "The defibrillator pads, please." Two electrical paddles dropped down from the ceiling. A loud humming sound began to emanate from the paddles as Byron rubbed them together.

"Wait," Gaz said. "She's fucking faking. I've seen her do this before! Get up, Sora. It wasn't funny last time and it sure as hell isn't funny this time!"

Suddenly, as if on command, Sora popped her head up and, with a very disappointed look on her face, said, "Oh you're no fun, Gaz! Oi, pretend to have some sort of seizure, you gotta' go and ruin the funny panic!" She got up and dusts herself off. "That floor sure is dusty, and maybe germy."

Gaz and Byron both flinched at the mention of the germs. They both knew what was coming next.

"GERMS, in MY base? IMPOSSIBLE!" Zim yelled and dashed off to get his germ goggles.

Gaz watched Zim run away and then looked over at Sora. "You really shouldn't have said that."

"What? About the germs?" She gave Gaz a puzzled look before getting up from the floor and continuing to consume the contents of her new favorite drink.

"Yeah, Zim's very touchy about germs." Gaz said.

"He's a grade-A, O.C., clean freak. You'll see. And then you'll be sorry!" Byron added.

"What's the big deal? They're just germs? How bad could he…"

"Ha! Vindication!" Zim yelled and reentered the room with his goggles and his usual germ fighting uniform. Sora gazed over at the little alien in the tissue box shoes, green waders, rubber gloves, and shower cap. She couldn't help but smile. Zim, on the other hand, was amused for a far more contrasting reason. "HA! Human-stink, I WAS right about the soda and I was right that there are no FILTHY Germs in my...Ahhhh!" He screamed and pulled out a can of disinfectant spray. "They've come back for my Squeedly spooch!" He held the can like a gunfighter and defiantly declared, "I bested you once, Germs! And it would seem as though I'll have to…"

"HOLD IT MISTER!" Sora yelled and held up a stern finger. She walked over and opened a few windows. "That spray-shit is evil on my nose and I can taste it in the air! Don't bathe in it okay?"

Just as Zim poised for his next assault on the horrible Germs, Gaz yelled, "Zim, quit trying to annoy Sora! You and I both know that you and Byron have been inoculated! Go take that stupid shit off THIS instant!"

"Fine!" He said defeatedly and trudged off, dragging his tissue box shoes as he went.

Sora groaned and leaned against a wall. "Well, this has been entertainment gone down the drain. I'm so bored; I'm willing to do just about anything. I need something to follow. So... Bored! " She said and grasped the sides of her head as she slumped onto the floor.

And so, the evening turned into night. And the tension between Zim and Sora turned into sheer and unbridled LOATHING, mostly on Zim's part. The four had finally found something decent to watch and were happily distracted from the gathering storm outside. That is, until the proverbial levee broke.

With a brilliant flash of light and a deep and heavy rumble, the the room went black and the power went out.

Sora looks up from a comic. "Oh crap... please don't tell me another rain storm... "

Zim cringed at the thought of more rain. "Curse you, weather minion! Again you have attacked Zim!"

The auxiliary generators kicked in and power was restored to the living room. This now revealed Zim standing in his chair with a stupid look on his face and his first, yet again, in the air.

"I'm going to bed," Gaz grumbled. "Sora, you can spend the night here if you want. No arguing, Zim!"

"Fine!" He huffed. This tone then took on a more gentle aspect as he continued speaking, "I guess I'll be to bed a little bit later, Gaz. I have something to take care of. Night."

"Good night, Zim," She said. Then, Byron saw something he'd never seen before; Gaz GENTLY hugged Zim and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He tenderly returned the affection. Gaz smiled at him and then walked off down the hallway.

Sora shrugged. "I guess I'll take the couch. It's not like I have to be anywhere tomorrow." Sora lay down on the couch and wrapped herself up in her coat like some terrible Earth-bug in its coat-cocoon.

"Byron, come with me, IMMEDIATELY. We must use the phone." Zim said and motioned with his claw for him to follow.

"Why do I have to come?" Byron asked. "You're smart enough to use a phone on your own." Byron protested. "My show's about to start," he said.

Then the TV said, "Coming on next: When Animals Attack Fat People On Flaming Bicycles As They Plummet Helplessly Off Of Cliffs! Then, do I really have to say this? Fine! Then get ready for the side splitting humor of Seinfeld!"

"Ooh, animal attacks!" Sora exclaimed happily. Sora then added, as another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, "Just don't use a ground line when you call! You could get electrocuted… never mind!"

"YOU!" Zim yelled and pointed at Sora, "Be silent!" Zim then looked over at his comrade and added, "Byron, it's the BIG phone!"

"Oh," Byron said with wide-eyed realization. "I'm coming!"

"Stay here, human!" Zim ordered the girl and pointed at the couch.

"Ah huh, whatever," she mumbled. She laid her head down on one of the couch pillows and pretended to go to sleep. As soon as Byron and Zim had left the room, she quickly sat up and put her coat back on. After a quick glance over to straighten out any wrinkles, Sora walks off in the direction the aliens went.

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A/N: Well, another chapter down and a new character introduced, finally. Just so you all know, any chapter that features "Sora" is to be considered co-authored by DarkShadow1818! Or else! And also, "Sora" is © to her too. Also, Seinfeld is © (and stupid. Lol) Please review. And don't flame me about Seinfeld, please. lol!


	20. Our Proverbial Foot In The Door

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_Where there is a will, there is a way. If there is a chance in a million that you can do something, anything, to keep what you want from ending, do it. Pry the door open or, if need be, wedge your foot in that door and keep it open.__  
_

Pauline Kael

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Chapter 20

OUR PROVERBIAL FOOT IN THE DOOR

The rain continued to pound outside like an angry landlady who wants her back rent would pound on a door. The ground was saddened with rain and deep, wide puddles formed a patchwork quilt of evil water in the grass. Lightning ripped across the sky in frightening displays of nature's destructive power. But, down below in the depths of Zim's base, it was cool and dry. You would never have even been able to tell it was storming outside. It was so far down below the surface of the Earth, that even the thunder's most fearsome roar was disarmed before it reached Zim and Byron's antennae.

Both Byron and Zim stood poised in front of the towering communication screen. Byron stood with his boots firmly planted on the floor and his back straight like a proud general or a warlord who surveys the battlefield with the utmost sense of stoic duty with his hands firmly clasped behind his back as Zim quickly typed onto and adjusted the control panel. His eyes were cool and calm and he seemed as if he were waiting for the bus, but inside he was on fire with a raging inferno of impatient excitement. The moments it took for Zim to finish his task seemed to take forever.

"Prepare yourself, Byron!" Zim finally yelled as he scurried away from the screen and took his place next to him. And now the pair stood like statues waiting. Albeit the formal nature of the situation, it was rather humorous. The screen turned white for a moment and then appeared the Tallests.

"Great! What is it now, Zim?" Tallest Purple asked in a bored but snappy tone. He and Tallest Red were sitting on a large, magenta colored couch eating. The little coffee table in front of them was heavily loaded with a vast array of snacks and junk food. Its legs were beginning to buckle under the immense strain.

"Ah, my Tallests!" Zim said as he practically crawled across the floor in his groveling. "I have wonderful news!" Zim announced eagerly.

"You've contracted Targenian space-flu and you've only got twelve vexes to live?" Red asked hopefully as he stuffed another donut in his mouth, and then another.

Zim doubled over laughing, "Hahaha! What a wonderful joke my Tallests! Your humor is still as fresh as when you banished me to Foodcourtia!" He looked over at Byron and said, "Aren't they great? They always tell me jokes like that!"

'What the hell?' Sora thought to herself. She was quietly sneaking into the communication chamber. She hid behind a crate and, as she drank her fresh can of Irken soda through a bendie-straw, watched her newfound friends speaking with two very tall creatures on the monster, big screen.

"Who's that?" Tallest Purple asked. There was a split moment when the air is tense for Sora. Did they notice the strange, human girl who was gallivanting about in the background while happily drinking her soda? Of course not!

Byron saluted his new leaders and boldly declared, "I am Byron: loyal servant to the Irken Empire! It is my honor to finally meet you, my Tallests!"

Sora's shoulders relax once she knew she hadn't been seen. She hid behind her crate, still drinking her soda, and looked at the two aliens on the screen. 'That one in red hues looks more of the leader type than his comrade,' she thought to herself. There was something intriguing about him; something she couldn't quite explain. Deciding to press her luck to an even more obscene extreme, Sora moved from behind her crate to a closer vantage point. Still somehow, she remained undetected by the four Irkens.

"That's all well and good then." Purple said and then looked over at his co-leader, "Not like we're running low on servants."

"Duh." He said and began to eat a burrito. "So, Zim, what was so important that you had to interrupt us watching midget wrestling? Hmmm?" Red asked.

"Yeah, hmmm?" Purple added.

"Uh, I, a thousand apologies my Tallests! I'm very sorry. I didn't realize you were watching something as important as that! It's just been so long since I'd last checked in and I thought you might have become worried or..."

"Oh, yeah, Zim. We were worried alright!" Purple said.

"I'd almost lost hope that we'd ever hear from you, our most prized Invader, ever again," Red said while trying to stifle a laugh.

Byron looked down at Zim and asked, "Could I have a moment alone to talk with my new leaders?"

"Of course," he said with a nod and left the room.

"Let me guess," Byron said and looked back up at the screen, "he was a Grade-A-fuck-up on Irk, right? He caused all types of trouble for you, so you sent him here and told him it was a 'special' mission, right?"

The Tallests nod in agreement. "Pretty much."

"Why do you ask?" Purple asked.

"Just wondering." Byron said. "I had a feeling."

Sora decided now is as good a time as any and came out from behind her crate. Then, just before she was noticed, she exclaimed a very sudden, and rational statement, "WICKED UNIFORMS! They look tight around the waist though... are they? How are you able to hold your chests up with such tiny waists? Are they comfortable?"

The room went silent. Tallest Red dropped his burrito in shock and Purple started choking on his donut in mid-swallow. Byron just flinched for a moment and turned around to say, "Aw, crap!"

"Hi!" Sora said.

"I thought we told you to stay upstairs?" Byron asked in a very perturbed tone. His fists were clenched in anger. In one felled swoop, Sora had completely humiliated him in front of the Tallests.

Sora smiled and shrugged, "Yeah, but when the owner of a house is an alien, I can't just sit around. This place is awesome!" She looked up and waved at the Tallests, "By the way, I like your uniforms! They match your eyes perfectly!"

Red smiled and said, "Oh, yeah, they do. You know, you're the first person to actually notice that they..." He then paused for a moment and continued, "Hey! What's she doing in there?"

"It's a long story," Byron said with a pause, "You do realize he's still choking right?"

Red waved his claw nonchalantly, "Oh, yeah, sure. I notice everything. He... Ahhhh!" Red screamed at the top of his lungs as he attempted some freakish form of the Heimlich maneuver. Finally, Red managed to pry the donut from Purple's throat.

Wide-eyed, Sora frowned slightly and commented, "Ouch! I hope he's alright."

"Sora, could you please leave? The aliens are trying to have an intelligent conversation here!" Byron said hastily and motioned towards the door.

"Yes, we're very busy trying to rule the known universe!" Purple said as the color returned to his face.

Sora slumps her shoulders, trying to look pitiful. "Aw, I just wanted to join in the mass destruction, chaos, and head-explodies while raining doom on my own race 'cause they suck." She walked toward the door, but suddenly turned around and shouted quickly, "YOUR SODA ROCKS!"

Red looks at the girl with an odd expression, while eating his newly procured donut, and said to Purple, "I like her. She can stay!"

"Whatever," Purple said and rolled his eyes.

"You," Red said and pointed at Byron, "Leave us! Leave now!"

"Yes, at once, my Tallests! As you wish!" As he sulked out of the room, he whispered to himself, "Jerks!"

After watching Byron leave, she turned to them. "Wow, sounds like you do that often."

"It's a perk." They both say at once.

"Heh, so... what's your Empire like?" Sora asked in her eager quest for knowledge.

"Ah, it's all right." Red said.

"It's big too," Purple interjected.

"So... how many planets have you conquer? Uh, never mind that question. I wanna' know what your science department's like!" She said with a big grin.

"How should we know? We're too busy having to sign autographs and deal with snack shortages to worry about sc-ie-nce," Purple says.

"Purple, quit trying to use big words. You hurt yourself last time." Red scolded.

"Sorry."

"Snack shortages? That's a shame... here on Earth there's got to be a new snack that comes out every month." Sora said.

"Month? What's a month? Is it a new snack?" Purple asked.

"No, it's part of our time frame. But I swear, there's always a new flavored chip... some sort of soda, candy galore. It makes my head spin. Say, are you really coming to Earth and take it over or something?'

"No," they both said flatly.

"We weren't really planning on it." Purple said.

"I didn't even think there was actually a planet where we sent Zim," Red laughed. "We thought he'd run into a sun or something by now."

"Oh, okay. So, uh, no weapons of mass destruction eh?"

"Nope."

"Well damn!" She yelled.

"You're very strange." Red said to her.

"Yes she is." Purple added.

"What's your name again?" Red asked with a strange glint in his eye.

She smiled and said, "Oh I'm sorry. I never fully introduced myself. My name is Sora and it is a honor to speak with such leaders as yourselves, Sirs."

"Sirs?" Red looks over at Purple. "Did she call us robots?"

"I dunno'!" Purple said.

"Oh is that what you called those little robots? Like the one Zim has? Are they... always that crazy?"

"No," Red said. Both he and Purple started laughing. "It's defective!"

"I see. I had that sort of feeling. It must have marbles for brains."

"Pocket change!" Purple laughed even harder.

Meanwhile, outside the com chamber, Zim and Byron were talking unhappily about the situation at hand. "She could compromise the entire mission!" Zim snarled. "She enrage the Tallests so that they'll banish me! Again!"

"I don't think so, Red seemed to like her." Byron paused for a moment. "I'm having a thought, Zim. She may prove useful..." Byron leaned over and began to whisper his idea to Zim.

"Brilliant!" Zim exclaimed.

"Exactly," Byron said. "This young lady my be our proverbial foot in the door."

"I'll be right back," Tallest Purple said.

"Whatever." Red said in response. Once Purple had left, Red got up from the couch and hovered closer to the screen, "So..."

Sora blinked a little surprisedly, "Yes? Is there, uh, something wrong?"

"No, I think everything is JUST right."

She smiles, "Okay. For a moment there I thought I was being annoying and you were going to shoo me off or something."

"Why'd I do that?" Red asked as he looked at the girl.

" I dunno'. Maybe because, I'm very... difficult, as I was once told. I'm very independent and stubborn. I've also been told I have great character in leadership," She stopped and laughed. "I'm not a leader, though. I just yell at people who are doing their job or make them do it faster. Heh, I love bossing people around."

"You like talking too, don't you?" Red said. He hadn't had someone other than Purple talk to him this much since that peace conference, that "accidentally" exploded, that they had to go to!

"Yeah, sorry. Is it bothering you? I won't speak in such detail then."

"Whatever you wanna' do." Red rested his chin in the palm of his claw and gazed into the screen almost transfixed.

"Oh? Okay." Her hand slipped into a pocket and pulled out a pen. "Hey! I found it! I've been wondering where this went today."

"That's nice." Red replied.

She smiled, and pressed a button on the pen. "It's my lucky laser pen!" She laughed. "I love lasers."

"You like lasers?" Red asked. " What about smoke machines?"

"They're kinda sucky. And they smell funny! But Lasers are wicked!"

Red's smile grew wider revealing his teeth. "I couldn't agree more."

She smiles back. "I take it you like lasers too?"

"Yeah." He laughed. "Do you like Earth?"

"Not really." She said. "I like science and stuff like that."

"I was never really into science. It's boring." Red picked up a donut and shoveled it into his mouth. "You want one?"

"Um, how? You're over there and I'm here."

"It's easy." Red popped a couple of donuts in a transmitter cell and within a few seconds, they were resting in an identical cell on the communication desktop.

"Like I was saying, science is boring." Red said completely ignoring the amazing flaunt of scientific triumph.

"Oh that's cool!" She ate a donut. "Hey, these are WAY better than our donuts!" She looked up at Red and said, "Well... I do more than just science ya' know." She winked.

"And what would that be?" Red asked trying his damnedest to look suave.

"Oh... fighting, I can make weapons from scratch, hmm... I dunno'. I've done a lot on my own. I will admit that I've never dated before... unless you don't know what dating is..."

"I know what dating is." Red said.

"Oh you do? That's good, for a moment I thought I'd have to go into some sort of boring lecture."

"So, you wanna' uh, go out sometime?" Red was being his typical bold self. His boldness had gotten him this far in life, how could he fail?

Poor Sora just stood there for a moment. His request had taken her completely by surprise. She blinked once and managed to open her unbelievably, dry mouth, "You mean on a date? You're asking me out on a date?"

"Yeah"

After a few more seconds of silence she spoke again, "Despite the fact we're not the same species?"

"Yeah."

And then, there was yet another pause. Finally, Sora grinned and said, "Sounds like fun!"

A muted "Yes!" could be heard from outside the door.

"I bet it'd be better than what most human males do anyways on dates."

Red grinned bigger. "What's that?"

"Oh boring stuff! My idea of a date is..." Just as she was about to explain, Purple hovered back into the room.

"So, what are you guys talking about? You hitting on another girl?" Purple laughed.

"Mind your own business Purple! I'm busy!"

"Fine! Purple said. "If anybody get's worried, I'll be in my room! So there!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Go on then!"

"I am!"

"Good!"

Purple left in a huff. "You suck!"

"So, where were we?" He said and then arched over the couch, "No, YOU suck!"

Sora suddenly bursts out laughing.

"What's funny?"

After a few caught breaths, she said, "You two. You both act like typical brothers. I love it!"

"Oh, okay," Red said completely oblivious to what the word "brother" meant. "Who's that 'Byron' Irken. I don't remember sending him to be banished with Zim."

"He didn't used to be Irken. He used to be like me."

"You mean, HE used to be human!" Red asked in amazement.

She nods. "From what I heard, yes. I've never saw him as human, though. He develop a serum that changed him into an Irken."

"Cool. That would make dating easier." He said with a smile.

"Not to be rude or anything but... how tall do your people consider 'Tall to rule?'"

"I'm not sure. We don't have the same units of measure."

"Okay. In that case, I think you look very attractive for your height," Sora said.

"Thank you. You're the first person to ever say that without being forced."

"You're welcome, "Sora said. She was just about to add on her previous statement when Byron and Zim reentered the room.

"Did I say you could come back yet?" Red snapped at the two. Without another word the two turned back around and left. "How hard is it to have a conversation around here?" Red asked.

She shrugs. "Beats me," she said. "What do you do as a Tallest?"

"Tell people what to do. Eat snacks. It's really fun," Red told her.

"It does sound fun."

And so the two continued to talk for the next two hours about this and that. Every now and then, Zim would pop in and Red would immediately send him away. As they talked more and more to each other, a bond began to form between them. Finally, Red said, "I wonder what you'll look like with antennae..." Red said dreamily.

She smiles, "Cool."

"Yeah," Red said and absentmindedly reached out accidentally tapping his claw on the screen.

Sora snickered before checking her wristwatch. "Oh drat, I didn't realize what time it was. It was a pleasure speaking with you Tallest Red. I hope we can speak another time?"

"So do I, Sora. I'll miss you."

She smiled once more. "Me too. Compared to the average human male, I'd choose you over all of them."

"Thanks," Red said. "It fills me with great joy to know you'd forsake your entire species for me. We'll get along so well!"

"I know we will," she said.

As the screen went black, Tallest Red leaned back in the couch and thought to himself about the girl named "Sora". He was experiencing a strange feeling he'd never felt before. He sat there for the longest time trying to diagnose this mystery feeling. Then, the thought raced through his mind, 'Could it be LOVE?'

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A/N: Yes, yes, I know. Very mushy. So, what'd you think? I hope it wasn't too drawn out for you. I'm just trying to establish the continuing plot AND introduce a new character. Jeez! Anyway, tell me what you think and give me reviews. Lots of them! Now! Lol Thank you.


	21. The Camel's Back

A/N: Another short chapter for you. I couldn't sleep, so I hammered this baby out.

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"It may take a great deal to drive someone to their breaking point, but it doesn't take much to propel them past it."

- B. C. Schiele

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Chapter 21

THE CAMEL'S BACK

Not long after Sora's conversation with Tallest Red, Zim and Byron had retired to their respective sleeping quarters. Sora went to sleep on the couch in the living room and, as previously revealed, Gaz slept with Zim. The base was filled with an ear-deafening silence that would be punctuated every so often by a misplaced beeping or the whirring and grinding of machinery deep within. But, all was not as it seemed. Byron was not asleep; he was very much awake and making the most of it.

"Vincent, how are the preparations coming?" He asked as he sat perched in a chair leaning over his desk.

"YES, SIR. THE SHIP WILL BE READY BY TOMORROW," Vincent said.

"Excellent," Byron said. "As soon as I'm sure Dib is no longer a threat, I'll be leaving and I want everything ready; no mistakes. If things are as dire for my Tak as I fear, then I may have already wasted far too much time."

Byron reached over and grabbed an odd shaped tool from a small box and continued to work on the strange device he had dissected on his desk. He'd been working fervently on it for the past two hours and talking with Vincent about his plans. He'd been constructing a ship, with Vincent's help, in secret and was planning to sneak off and get Tak. As they spoke, the ship was being supplied with enough fuel, food, and CD's to make the journey.

Once the two had completely exhausted the subject of Byron's plan, they began to talk about the only other thing people talk about when there's nothing left to talk about, movies.

"YOU MEAN IT WAS THAT BAD?" Vincent asked.

"Yeah," Byron remarked, "I was surprised too. War of the Worlds looked like it was going to be good. But it was a total fuck-up. I watched the thing hoping for some awesome heat-ray action and instead I got screwed."

"WHY?" Vincent asked.

"The damn thing vaporized people to dust. How boring is that? And the best part, it hardly touched their clothes," Byron said in disgust.

"MAYBE IT WAS BIOLOGICAL," he said.

"Bullshit," Byron interjected, "If that were true, it wouldn't have destroyed anything non-organic. It blew up cars and buildings and all types of things; except clothes and shoes."

"Oh."

"I laughed my ass off the entire film. It was nothing but eye-candy. There wasn't anything intelligent about it and it was full of mistakes. The only good acting was Morgan Freeman narrating the beginning and end!" He scoffed in disgust. "And Tom Cruise sucked like you wouldn't believe."

"THAT DOESN'T SURPRISE ME. HE HASN'T HAD A GOOD ROLE SINCE RISKY BUSINESS." Vincent simulated a laugh.

"I can't agree with you more there, Vincent. And Rebecca De Mornay was hot as hell!" Byron said. He paused for a minute or two and triumphantly shouted, "Success!" He held up the tiny little device in his claw and laughed.

"YOU FINISHED IT?" Vincent asked.

"Yes, it is completed. MY own cloaking device," he said to himself. Not being quite sure just how to use it, Byron put it in his pocket and activated it. There was a slight crackle of electricity and Byron's form grew blurry for a moment. Suddenly, there stood Byron as he once was; the pale skinned human boy. "Did it work?"

"OF COURSE IT DID!" Vincent exclaimed happily.

Meanwhile, Tak sat huddling next to Mimi in a cave on some God-forsaken planet out in the Vetranda system. She'd been there for so long. Her Pak had long since ceased providing her nourishment and she'd become frail and emaciated in her futile scrounging for food. Her Squeedly spooch was constantly in pain with emptiness and she'd almost completely given up the will to live. If it hadn't been for Mimi, she would have come to this moment a long time ago. She reached to her side and pulled out her Z-12 Plasma cartridge sidearm and armed it. "It was a grand run while it lasted, Mimi," she said and reached a weak claw out and touched Mimi one last time. With a single, dark tear escaping her eye, she placed the pistol in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Tak stared down at the faulty piece of weaponry and almost started laughing. It was like when someone was about to hit you square in the face and then they suddenly stopped right before their fist connected with your jaw. Tak's body had been ready for the sensation of death and now she was left with a numb feeling as her heart pounded in her throat and her Squeedly spooch was throbbing.

She examined the firearm for a moment and discovered the safety mechanism was still engaged. "It's always something," she huffed and flipped the switch. Again, she placed the gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

Again, nothing happened.

In frustration, Tak held the cursed devise above her head and threw it, with all her strength, across the cave. With a loud crash, it shattered against a wall and Tak was, again, left to sit in silence and stew in her own anguish.

Then unexpectedly, as many miracles are, the communication device emerged from Tak's Pak and there appeared, like an angel to a dying soul, Byron. Her heart swelled and she smiled at the site. Trying to muster up as much strength and dignity, fearing him seeing her in such a state, Tak said, "Hi, By."

Byron's smile quickly faded as he took in the creature that was once a resonating beacon of strength and power. A little part of Byron died inside. He wept inside.

"Oh, Tak," he said, with a slight choke in the back of his throat, through his trembling lips. He felt the grip of nausea in his gut and he struggled to keep from openly sobbing.

"I don't know what to say, By. I'm sorry it's come to this. I'm not going to last much longer," she said.

"Don't talk like that!" Byron said with a sharp intake of breath. "Don't say that! You're not going to die. I won't…"

"Please," she interrupted, "I need to tell you something, By. I may never get this chance again. I want you to know how wonderful I think you are. And how much I love you," she said and began to break down. She buried her face in her claws and began to cry. "I love you SO much, By and I'll never get to see you again. I wanna' hold you and you tell me how much you…" she couldn't continue. She was too far-gone in her misery to do anything but sob.

"I love you too, Tak. Please listen to me. I'm coming to get you. I'm coming tonight! Right now. Fuck Zim, Gaz, Sora; all of them. They don't matter anymore. MY plan doesn't matter anymore. All of it's worthless without you! You just hold on, now. I'll be there as soon as I can. You're strong, you can make it. Remember how tough you are? How much ass you've kicked? Please, Tak. I love you too much to loose you. You have no idea what I've done just to get where I am! How hard I've worked to make this life for us," he cried frantically trying to instill some kind of hope in her before she was completely lost. "I'm coming now."

"Oh, By," she said, "I'll wait for you. I'd wait for you forever."

"Good. I love you so much," he said again.

"I love you too. I'll bee seeing you around," She said and the transmission cut off.

"Yes you will," Byron whispered to himself. The camel's back had finally broken. And a mental dam, hidden deep within Byron's mind, finally exploded forth. His head snapped up, he shook off his despair and bellowed at Vincent, "Get the ship ready, NOW! Fuck everything but the food and the medical supplies! I'm leaving now!"

"YES, SIR," Vincent said. "SHE'LL BE FUELED AND READY IN FIVE MINUTES, SIR!"

"Sora, wake up! Wake up now!" Byron said frantically shaking Sora. She was asleep on the couch. Her body was wrapped like a crepe in the blankets and her head hung off the edge of the cushion. "Wake the fuck up!" He yelled.

"Ten more minutes!" She huffed.

"Fuck this!" He moaned and threw her out in the floor.

"What's happening? Is the Armada here already?" She asked as she quickly came screaming out of her tranquil sleep.

Byron pounced on her and fastened his claw over her mouth. "SHHH! No, now be quiet and listen to me very carefully. This is an emergency, damn it! I need you to do me a favor," he said to her with his claws now clasped firmly together in front of him as he stood up.

She blinked and said, "Yeah, what's the emergency?"

"That don't concern you right now, damn it! I just need your help me, please," he begged.

"Okay," she sighed, "what is it?"

"I need you to distract Zim for the next two months," he said hurriedly. He restlessly squirmed in his place as he talked. "Please."

"How come?"

"I have to go take care of something very dear to me! Please don't screw with me right now," he said as his voice began to break again. "I need to go, now!"

"I see. All right then, but what about Zim, he hates me? He'll never trust anything I say."

"Ask him about taking an oath. He'll buy it and you'll be best fucking buddies until you die!" He said in annoyance and stormed out of the room. A few minutes later, a loud rumble could be heard coming from outside as a ship went screaming out of the back yard and tore through the sky.

Sora climbed back onto the couch and tried to go back to sleep. 'Boy, he sure was in a hurry,' she thought to herself.

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A/N: Did I make you cry out in inreconsoliable anguish and utter despair? I hope not, because then you couldn't review! lol PLease, tell me what you think, or I might die. sob! Just kidding. I'd also like to warn you, that since Byron's basically going to be spending most of the next month on a long, arduous, and boring ass journey, the storing will probably center more around Sora. I hope you all still enjoy it just as much. Thanks. -The Author


	22. Zim's Truimph

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens; bright copper kettles and warm, woolen mittens; brown paper packages tied up with strings: these are a few of my favorite things."

- The Sound of Music

Chapter 22

ZIM'S TRIUMPH, DIB'S UPCOMING HUMILIATION OF DOOM!

Zim awoke as dawn broke outside. The sunlight wafted through the curtains of the upstairs bedroom. Since Gaz had moved in, she'd "insisted" that she sleep in a normal bedroom and that Zim sleep with her. Their first night together, Gaz had tried to stay in Zim's room, but she wasn't much for the cramped, almost U-boat-like, conditions. Some people just can't sleep on a bed that's only four feet long and has no sheets or blankets that lies in a room full of humming wires and blinking lights. It also smelled funny.

And so, Zim had become accustomed to sleeping in a human bed with human sheets in a human room. It had been awkward at first, but Gaz "sweetened the deal" as far as that went and since that night, he didn't mind it that much.

Zim lay there wrapped in the warm sheets for a few minutes with his eyes closed. He was awake, but, being Zim with such infinite wisdom, decided to keep them shut for a couple of minutes. Gaz lay there next to him; nestled in his loving arms. He gently stroked her shoulder with his thumb. He loved waking up with her even more than going to sleep with her. He loved having her be the first experience of his morning and he loved the way she smelled. She was, to him, as perfect as a human stink-best could be. She slightly shifted her position in the bed and Zim instantly stopped rubbing her shoulder. He remembered what happened the last time he's accidentally woken her up THIS early in the morning. Those bruises were just now fading.

He would have begun his morning, like he usually did, by kissing Gaz on the cheek, but something was different today. Something was awry. But what was it? Had he left the Sub-atomic Automatic Particle Disruptor running all night, which, if unattended, could cause a disruption in the time stream continuum rendering reality as we now it completely twisted into a nightmarish taco nightmare of taco doom? No. Maybe Gir had set the bed on fire in a spontaneous, impromptu battle to the death with forces far darker than himself? No, it wasn't that either. What was it then? Maybe it was the large, yellow post-it note stuck between his eyes that distracted Zim? Yes, it was definitely that. And the fact that he'd drooled in his sleep.

He snatched it off his face and quickly read it.

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"Dear Zim,

DO NOT PANIC! I had to leave on an urgent matter.

I'll be back from McMeaties' as soon as I can. Trust

me, this is very important. As for Dib, carry out our

plan for him as if nothing has changed. And lastly,

please try to be nice to Sora, she is our 'Ace in

the hole', after all. Again, do not panic!

Byron

P.S. We're out of Post-it Notes."

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"What?" Zim said in a very loud tone of voice. "How can this be?"

Gaz stirred next to him," Zim, what did I tell you about ranting this early in the morning? If you know what's good for you, you'll either go back to sleep, or get out of bed and leave me alone."

"Apologies, my beloved Gaz-mokey, but Byron's run away to McMeaties'. He didn't say why. It's an 'urgent matter' he said." Zim told her as he got up from bed and put his pants on. He gave an itch on his ass a quick scratch and walked out of the room. Gaz rolled over and went back to sleep.

"It is no worry of Zim," he said as he walked down the hall. "I am so AMAZING, I shall complete The Plan before Byron returns!" He paused for a moment and waved his claws in front of his face, "AMAZING!"

Zim, after getting his breakfast burrito, marched his way down to Dib's holding cell and opened the door quietly. Dib was, like the beast he'd become, curled up in the corner sleeping. Every so often, Dib would make a groaning sound and twist around in his spot.

Zim very quietly tiptoed over to the sleeping monster-boy with the monstrously colossal head and declared, "WAKE UP, DIB-STINK! Today's your big day. You're going into the 'show business' thingy," he said and tazed Dib with his tranquilizer.

Zim expertly put on his not so expert disguise and carried Dib off down the hall. Just as Byron had asked, Zim was carrying out "the plan" and within a few hours, Dib would no longer be a threat, much less a problem. Zim dragged Dib into the backyard to a conveniently placed tool shed that had been there the entire time. THE ENTIRE TIME!

Zim wrapped the unconscious Dib-creature in a tarp and tied him up with several yards of twine. Then, for authenticity, Zim bashed his head into the wall a couple of times and walked back out of the shed with his new "brown paper package tied up with strings". Zim hoisted Dib over his shoulder once more and, with the assistance of his spider-legs, walked off while whistling a merry tune and scratching his ass as the sun rose higher into the sky. In the distance, a dog barked as robot-squirrels dance on a neighboring rooftop.

In a few hours, it would all be done and Byron would be back from McMeaties' to find a triumphant Zim waiting for him.

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A/N: Sorry I've been away so long. I've been a bit on the depressed side, and I haven't been sure where I want this plot to go. If you have ANY ideas, email me so I can steal them. Especially plans for destroying the world. Anything will do, maybe. Anyway, I hoped you liked and please review. More is coming!


	23. Byron's Nightmare

A/N: Oh No! Not another Oliver Twist reference!

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Chapter 23

BYRON'S NIGHTMARE

Byron was completely unaware of where he was. He had become lost, not in some uncharted star-system from his own miscalculation, but in a bustling street in Victorian London. The tall shops rose up around him while their chimneys billowed thick black smoke into the sky. In the distance, through the smog and factory stacks, he could see Big Ben and St. Paul's Cathedral. The filthy cobblestone streets, however, were not littered with shopkeepers and peasants, but with hundreds and hundreds of Irkens and wagons being drawn by strange and horrible creatures. There was a tumultuous roar from the crowd. Many could be heard shouting and arguing about prices for bread, fish, and fabrics. Others sat at a corner café and drank to their hearts content while singing. It was a supremely bizarre setting that completely baffled Byron. He had no idea how he had arrived at this present occasion or why nineteenth century London was completely overwrought with Irkens. There was a small lad in a blue coat and top hat standing before him, feasting on a piece of bread, and talking in a strange accent.

"Hullo, my covey! What's the row?"

"What the hell's going on here?" Byron asked the small Irken boy with a look of pure confusion. He didn't have time to contemplate this Charles Dickens themed acid trip, he had to rescue Tak!

"Oi, gov'na, this 'ere be's merry ole' London. Je'el of the civ-o-lized worl'. And I might be obliged to inquire as to 'wo you are," the boy said. As he stood before Byron, he rolled up the sleeves on his coat, with was obviously not his and several sizes too large, and shoved his hands in the deep pockets of the aforementioned blue coat.

"That doesn't matter you cheeky little shit! How are you and where is Tak!" Byron's face flushed to a deep green color and his antennae laid flat against the top of his head.

"No need fo' irritable conduct, sir! I meself, sir, go bys the name o' Jack Dawkins, but, I'm known amongst me mo'e intimate fwiends as de' Awtfu' Dodger!" The boy proclaimed with a drunken bow. Dodger fiddled with one of the buttons on his soiled orange waste coat.

"Well, Dodger, this has been a laugh riot, but I must be going. Now piss off!" Byron said with great irritation and shoved past the boy. "Tak, Tak! Where are you?" He desperately yelled. With any hope, if she was here, perhaps she'd stolen some food from a local merchant.

"Where's is it you's being off to in such a rash rush sir?" Dodger asked as he climbed out of the sewer grating Byron had shoved him into and dusted himself off. "You can't be leaving so soon! We've still got a musical numba' to perform!" He proclaimed with a single finger sticking into the air.

"What are you talking about!" Byron asked. Before anything else could be said or done, booming music came from absolutely nowhere and filled the entire city street. All the other racket had magically dissolved and made way for this grating tune. Byron then realized that not only Dodger, but every other Irken in the street was poised and ready to take part in a decadent and immense musical number that you never would have anticipated to occur in such a low budget fic as this!

Byron was able to yell out a single, "NO!" Before he was consumed.

"Consider yourself an E.T.  
Consider yourself one of the army.  
Though your plan's gone all-wrong.  
I'm sure you're going to get along.  
Consider yourself well done  
Consider yourself part of the invasion.  
There lot's of planets out there.  
But we Irkens don't rightly care to share!"

Everyone began to dance in a wonderfully choreographed chorus line and Byron desperately tried to escape.

"You've worked and planned so hard

and tried to be the great conqueror

of Earth?  
Always a-chance could be things

Could finally go your way

Then you'd finally have some mirth!  
Consider yourself our mate.  
Don't try and discuss,  
For after some consideration, we can state  
Consider yourself  
One of us!"

Dodger looked at Byron and sang, "Consider yourself…"

Byron opened his mouth and attempted to tell Dodger to go and fornicate with himself, but instead SANG, "an E.T.!" Byron slapped a claw across his mouth in horror.

"Consider yourself…"

"One of the Army!" Byron again sang against his will as if he were possessed by Rogers and Hammerstien, even though they had absolutely no affiliation with the musical number at hand.

"So you changed yourself genetically?  
Well that's a cup-o'-tea no doubt  
And now your going to go and get your lady friend

Before ole' Zim finds out!"

The crowd entered into an even larger dancing number as fireworks filled the sky and elephants were brought out into the streets with half-naked showgirls atop them.

"Consider yourself a freak  
We don't want to have no fuss  
For after some consideration we can state  
Consider yourself  
One of us..."

"For after some hesitation we can state  
Consider yourself...  
One of us!"

"I guess," Byron added sadly. He now knew that he'd never escape this hellish, um, hell and Tak would be lost!

Now the entire city street, though set before the invention of electricity, was now illuminated by billions of neon lights. And if that wasn't bad enough, the stage had now been invaded by Priest juggling flaming chainsaws and a small troupe of tap-dancing hotdogs! The musical number had now reached its over-the-top and gaudy climax as the music and chorus swelled!

"Well I can see  
You could be a psychopath,  
Why I can do the math,  
I'm sure  
Always a chance you'd snap  
now you're over the edge.  
And there aint' a fucking cure!"

"Consider yourself…" Suddenly Byron sat in fear and gasped. His chest pounding and his body drenched in a cold sweat, Byron looked around now to find himself, not in a musical hell, but, in the back of his small ship, which he dubbed 'The Gulf Runner', lying on a small and very uncomfortable cot he'd set up.

"OH MY GOD! WHAT A FUCKIN' NIGHTMARE!"

He got up off his bed, still trying to calm his spasming heart and to keep from hyperventilating, and looked out one of the many portholes. Outside, the cold, black void of space engulfed everything that could bee seen. The stars seemed to stand still even as the Gulf Runner reached its top speed. Every now and then, a small planet or asteroid would pass by. Byron smiled to himself as the little scene reminded him so of the opening credits of 'Mars Attacks!'. The thought of having to pilot a flying saucer, again, brought a smile to his face.

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A/N: So, what do you think? Damn, how many times have I asked you people that? Anyway, sorry I've been gone so long, been rather ill and not in the writing mood. Please leave a review, it really help keep my spirits up. Also, forgive the odd spacing, something in the system's fucked up! Thank you, more coming…


	24. Chasing Chapter

A/N: Sorry about how long this took, I've been sick and work has been slow. I'm not going to say that I'll post more frequently now, because then I always get sick so, um, I'm never posting again! Yeah.

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Chapter 24

THE LONG CHAPTER OF CHASING DOOM! PART ONE!

While Byron was recovering from his hellish musical number nightmare, Zim was merrily strolling down the street with the sack slung over his shoulder and dragging on the ground behind him. He whistled a happy tune he'd learned while stationed in a garrison on some distant planet named "Sirus Minor" many years before. It had been a rather successful tour of duty, if you didn't count the fact that no one had escaped the flaming garrison alive except for Zim, or the fact the planet was so completely decimated that it couldn't have even been used as a garbage disposal planet, or the fact that Zim had destroyed half of the fighting Armada stationed there, or the fact that, if not for the hover belt, Almighty Tallest Purple would have a rather nasty limp, it was a gloriously successful tour. Perhaps one day he'd receive a medal for his efforts and merits.

As Zim happily visited his little private memory of glorious triumph in battle, he failed to notice that fact that the sack he was dragging had suddenly become drastically lighter than it had been several moments previously. He had been dragging the sack behind him for nearly twelve blocks before a little child with his female parental unit cheerfully exclaimed, "Look mommy! He's dragging an empty sack! HE'S CRAZY!"

Zim froze in his tracks. Fear and realization enveloped his Squeedly-spooch and swiftly charged up his spine, gripping his brain-meats in a vice-like grip of panicky grippiness as he spun around to see a large gaping hole in the canvas. It appeared as though some wild animal had chewed its way through it. Part of the hole was especially large; more than like afford Dib's giganormous head safe passage!

Everything had, up until this point of course, been going very well. Zim had decided to field test his latest disguise. It was by far his most realistic attempt at replicating the human form. From the large, red bowling shoes to the velvet tuxedo jacket, it was perfect. He even had a little hat with light-up letters spelling, "NORMAL!" across the front.

"Oh, no! Oh, no! The Dib-best is loose! LOOSE!" Zim screamed as he fought off his panic. He danced in place, squeaking loudly, quickly regained his firm composer and fell back upon his many decades of reliable Invader training. He did what any skilled Invader would do in this situation. He mumbled to himself in a terribly loud voice.

"Alright, Zim, calm down. The Dib-stink couldn't have gotten far. He's bound to be hiding somewhere around here. It's not like he… HE'S LOOSE! HE'S LOOSE! THE DIB IS LOOSE!" Zim clamped his claws onto the sides of his head and began tugging and yanking on his antennas shrieking. "What am I going to do! What is to be done!"

Zim quickly reached into his pack and pulled out his communicator. "Gir, where are you? GIR!" Zim received no answer. "Where is he? He's never disappeared before?"

Zim's panic would have continued, more than likely growing even more uncontrollable, had it not been for the piercing scream of a woman down the street. "Ah, what is that! It's like a giant weasel! It's a giant killer weasel!"

Zim quickly scooped up the shreds of the sack and ran down the street toward the commotion screaming, "Dib-weasel, Zim comes for you know!"

When Zim finally reached the corner and tore around, he found the busy intersection in complete and utter disarray. There must have been at least fifteen motor vehicles and eight fires involved in the crash. More fond memories came back to him, but these were even shorter lived than their predecessors.

"Please sir, help us," a tiny little woman shrieked at Zim. She was slightly burned from an apparent explosion and one of her arms was missing.

He looked at her and made a satisfied "Hmmm!" sound before speaking to her. "Do not worry your stink-human brains, ma'am! For I am the weasel catcher and I'm here to catch the, um… WEASEL!"

The woman backed up a few steps from the little Invader's spectacle.

"Did you see which way he, er, it went?"

The woman simply nodded and, with her only remaining hand, pointed at a narrow alley that ran between two buildings just past the crash site. Zim, paying the stupid amputated woman no more attention, bolted toward the alley in chase of the Dib.

Dib rested for a moment; leaning against a brick wall in the shadows. He'd finally chewed his way out of the sack and had escaped down the street without Zim noticing. He'd tried to signal a cab, or anyone for that matter, and had, instead, caused the worst pile up since Zim had accidentally created the timefield explosion on probing day.

Once he'd climbed out of the twisted heaps that had once been cars, Dib had lurched his way down the ally that Zim was now diligently approaching. Dib knew he wouldn't have much time. A few moments before, he'd heard a loud and familiar voice shriek the word "weasel" and he knew Zim was coming for him. He quickly looked around for somewhere to hide.

"Dib-stink, no use in hiding! I'm going to find you! You shall not fool Zim twice in one day!" Zim howled as he ran down the ally looking for his prey. He ran down past a pile of boxes, and then past a large dumpster, and then, finally, a few trashcans before he came to a dead end. "Where did he go? It's not like there's anything to provide cover or a defilade from the AMAZING eyes of Zim!"

Suddenly there was a rustle in between the garbage cans. Zim spun around on his boot heels to investigate what was causing the ruckus.

As Zim walked toward the sound, Dib could hear his approaching boot steps. He knew he'd be captured again and whatever Zim had planned would finally be carried out upon his terribly large head.

"I have you now, Dib," Zim exclaimed as he stood next to the cans. "Dun dun dun!" He yelled as he kicked over the can and froze in horror at what he found.

Staring up at him was a tiny little Chihuahua with a not-so-tiny head. It had a terrible scar across its forehead and a large chunk bitten out of its left ear. I happily looked up at Zim with it's bulgy eyes and whimpered.

"AHHHHHHH! Madness! Madness!" Zim screamed in terror as he bolted down the ally and dove into the dumpster in an attempt to evade the evil dog. He sat in the darkness of the dumpster for several seconds hyperventilating before he realized he wasn't alone. He hastily reached into his Pak and pulled out a flashlight.

As the light came on, Zim could now see just all that was taking refuge in the dumpster. In the corner, two hobos struggled to rip a large cob of corn from the others hands while at least twenty five thousand, and a half, rats dug and waded around in the garbage looking for food. None of this concerned Zim, for in the other corner, hiding with a brown paper bag over his head, sat Dib.

"Hmmm, nothing here," Zim declared confidently and climbed out of the dumpster. After making sure the coast was clear of the evil meats dog, Zim proceeded onward in his quest.

"ACHOO!" Came a sneeze from the dumpster and Zim wheeled around and looked at where the noise had come from. "Hey! Hobos don't sneeze! THE DIB!" He screamed as he charged the dumpster.

Dib quickly scrambled out and, with the bag still firmly atop his massive head, ran directly into a large, metal pipe. He quickly stood back up and ripped the bag off his head. He looked back at the rapidly approaching Zim and made a break for the fire escape that hung just down the ally. And so, a truly gripping chase began that was almost totally impossible to achieve with such a low budget and lazy author!

Dib ran up the wall, his claws digging into the brick, and jumped onto the fire escape. He madly ran up each flight as Zim pursued. He deployed his spider legs and scaled the wall tight next to his prey. "I'm coming Dib, and when I get you, I'm gonna' do you in just like a Valkerian Figglequaspleech, with jiggley goo and nasty, big pointy teeth!"

Dib would have replied to this with a very witty and well-developed retort, but instead a loud and frightening hiss was shrieked back. As the two finally reached the rooftops, Dib had a slight head start and instantly bolted across the tarred roofs bolting behind pipes and vents. Zim followed, slowly gain on him as the continued to run and jump over the alleys that divided the buildings. Finally, Zim had enough distance on him and dove in for a tackled.

The pair became tangled and rolled off the top of the building and landed on a nasty, soggy pile of cardboard boxes. Dib regained his composure and ran inside the building they were behind. Zim looked up at the sign and read allowed, "Chicky Licky?" Zim got up and ran for the door. Just as he threw it open to go in, a tall, Goth girl ran out, knocking Zim down. She ran away screaming, "I got a better job! A better job!"

Zim stood back up, shaking his head, and ran inside. There stood Dib, holding a pot lid and a large spoon like a shield and sword. Zim instantly went into a fighting position and pulled a laser out of his Pak. And so, just as an amazingly well-choreographed fight scene was about to take place inside the kitchen of the Chicky Licky, the budget for this chapter finally gave out.

And so several action packed minutes that would have made you feel complete inside and given meaning to your life later, Zim exited the Chicky Licky with Dib draped, unconscious, over his shoulder. "That will teach you to resist ZIM!" He bellowed as he walked away, failing to notice the giant taco floating along in the sky. What was most sickening about it was that Zim also failed to notice the man in a Mr. Chiky Licky suit pointing up and shrieking and clucking insanely.

"We have the human now! And his little weasel!" The alien laughed as he, and his partner, watched from the bridge of their ship. "They won't escape this time!"

"Yeah, Pa! We'll replenish our collection something fierce!" The other one whooped. "Why'd we decide to get the human and the weasel first?"

"Duh! We pulled their names out of this hat!" He said, brandishing a small blue cap.

"Yeah, but all the little slips say 'Human and weasel on 'em!"

"So?"

"Oh, good point!" He yelled and fiddled with the control panel. Within seconds, Zim and Dib were both standing behind the two other aliens.

"Hey, what's going on here! I… oh no! It's THEM again!" Zim yelled in anger and disgust. The kind of disgust you get when you see a really bad burn victim being chewed on by a moose. That kind of disgust.

"Yes, Earthling! It is us!" The blue-eyed alien shouted.

"And me!" The other interjected happily.

"Yes, we have come back! Did you think we'd forgotten you?"

Zim looked at him, dropping Dib to the floor, "Uh, yeah, actually."

"Oh, well… you were wrong!" Blue laughed maniacally as Green joined in.

"This time you will not escape! For we are going to fuse you both with THE JUICE!"

Blue grinned and said, "Oh, by the way, where's that smart dog of yours?"

Zim looked curious for a moment and replied, "That's a good question actually. Where IS Gir?"

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A/N: YAY! I finished! I hope you all really like this one. The next chapter's really depressing, but it talks about Gir, SO READ IT! Please review…


	25. Side Chapter of Doom!

Chapter 25

THE SHORT SIDE-CHAPTER OF DOOM!

It had been a rather long day of hard work for Michael Chesterfield. He and his poor, ailing mother lived in a small cottage just east of the town of Brighton. Since his father had died in a mining accident a year and a half ago, he had been forced to sell his failing bookstore and attempt to make ends meet doing whatever job could arise. He had taken to the drink when his mother had been stricken with a life-threatening case of Head Pigeons. Being barely able to pay for their home, Michael had no way to pay for the medication that his mother so desperately needed.

As he walked back from town, toward the cottage, he looked over past the beach to the gently lapping, cool waves of the English Channel. For several days, he had noticed strange lights and small columns of smoke emanating over the horizon from the French side of the Channel. Even over the great-distanced gulf, he could see and wonder the origins of the strange and baffling sights. Little did he know, just how much of an impact the events occurring in Europe would soon cross the Channel like groping, snatching hands. He was but a small and simple man who could not foresee the dark shadow that would, in a matter of days, loom over the many towns and hamlets and farms and cities of England and the United Kingdom. He was sheltered, at least from the problems of the world, in his own ignorance. But even that, would not be able to save him from the cruel fate that had already been set into motion to snare him like a rat trap.

He walked up to the little brown door of his cottage and walked inside. The house was nearly bare, much like the pantry. All that existed in the main room was a small kitchen area, a couch, and a TV. Michael had decided to sell the remaining furniture the next day, but for tonight, he would enjoy his last sleep on the couch and enjoy his last night of Benny Hill.

Michael strangled back his tears at the thought of his dire situation and walked to one of the kitchen cabinets for his nightly dose of Scotch and Gin. He poured both bottles into an empty wine bottle and then topped it off with a splash of paint thinner; for zest. Gripping his creature comfort, Michael walked into the back of the cottage where his mother lay sleeping in her bed. He hadn't the heart to wake her. She was always in such agonizing pain when she was awake.

He rested his bottle on the floor next to the bed and walked back into the living room. He picked up a pillow from the couch and buried his face in it in and attempt to stifle his tortured sobs. That's when the thought crossed his mind. Finally, a solution had come to him. He pulled away the pillow and carried it with him into his mother's room. He stood there, by her bedside, for a great many minutes contemplating the notion of firmly pressing the pillow to his mother's face until her terrified screaming and trashing had finally stopped.

He resigned himself to the deed and dutifully reached forward, the pillow in his shaking hands, and was just about to instigate his merciful prescription, when he lost his nerve and dropped the pillow. He collapsed next to the bed and began to weep.

"Michael," His mother asked sleepily and opened one of her eyes, "what are you doing? Are you alright?"

He stood and looked down at her forcing a pitiful smile through his tears. "Nothing, mother, nothing for you to worry about. I just brought you another pillow so you could be more comfortable, that's all." He swallowed the lump in the back of his throat that had almost choked him moments before.

She smiled at him and whispered, "You brought me the one with the piggies on it. That one's my favorite."

"I know, mother." He shakily answered, again almost choking as that lump angrily returned.

"Such a thoughtful boy, you are. So thoughtful and kind to his…" before she could finish, she slipped off into sleep once again.

Michael knelt down to retrieve his bottle and as he grasped it, noticed that the raspy wheeze of his mother's labored breathing was absent from the room. She had finally gone into that sleep that he'd feared for the past many months.

He drank deeply from his bottle for a long moment and then abruptly sent it sailing through the air and across the room. It smashed against the wall with a loud crash leaving a small dent in the wall.

A few moments later, Michael walked out of the room and sat down on the couch. He turned on the TV and sat there gazing for several minutes.

Every member of the small family that lived a quarter of a mile down the road from Michael and his mother could hear the sound of a gunshot rip through the tranquil spring breeze.

As Michael lay there, the top of his head splattered against the wall behind him and the smoking revolver clattering on the floor at his feet, the television show he'd been watching was interrupted by an emergency broadcast.

"We now go live toMr. Prime Minister-person who has an announcement concerning the developments in Europe," the announcer grimly reported.

"I am speaking to you from the Cabinet Room at 10, Downing Street," Mr. Prime Minister-person began, "This morning the British Ambassador in New United Europe handed the Sympathizing Administration a final Note stating that unless we heard from them by 11 o'clock that they were prepared at once to dissolve and impeach their new Chancellor, a state of war would exist between us. I have to tell you now that no such undertaking has been received, and that consequently this country is at war with New United Europe and its Arch Chancellor GIR."

The words of the television fell on deaf ears, as did the voice coming from the back of the cottage calling, "Michael, is everything alright? Michael?"

The pigeon cooed.


	26. Chasing Chapter Part Two

A/N: Since the two abduction aliens are British, some of the words may look misspelled, but they aren't. It's more for pronunciation than spelling.

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Chapter 26

The Long Chapter Of Chasing Doom! Part Two!

Blue smiled happily and replied to Zim, "Thank you, it is a good question, idnit?"

"Yes, very good question indeed! Where is that dog of yours?" Green continued and gazed down questioningly at Zim.

"Uh, I already told you, I don't know where Gir is," he answered for the second time.

"Are you sure?" Blue chided.

"Yes," Zim huffed.

"Are you really sure?" Green asked him as he put a claw on his hip.

"Yeah," Zim whined.

"Are you really, really sure you…"

"I said yes!" Zim screamed as he jumped up and down angrily with his fists clenched in raging fury.

"Hmm," Green said to himself, "He's not gonna' be tellin' us nothin' till we fuse him!" Green laughed happily as he danced in place with the roll of fusing strips and a box of juice in his claws. "We must fuse him immediately!"

"Yes, let the fusing begin! We'll see how long you hold out under our fusing methods!" Blue grinned down at Zim with a sinister gaze. "I'll hold him! Once we've fused you with the juice, we'll fuses you with the Earth weasel!"

"Oh! And this smelly boot I found under my bed!" Green added as he hefted up a large boot from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Yes, the boot as well! You'll not be able to remember what you once were once we're through with you! You'll be just like that pathetic blob creature. What's his name again?" Blue asked his comrade in stupidity.

"It's Bill, aint it?" Green asked.

"No, no, it's something like Willy."

"Wally!"

"No, no. It's not Wally. Uh… is it Chuck?"

"Oh, wait," Zim interrupted.

"Do you remember his name?"

"No," Zim said in a dramatic tone, "but um, Gir's right there, behind you!" He yelled and pointed a twisted claw behind the pair.

"Huh?" They both questioned as they turned around to see nothing there.

"Blast! He ran away again!" Blue said as he turned around. "Where'd he go, human?"

There was no answer.

"Hmm," Green said as he scratched his chin. "This seems awfly familiar."

They stood there for several moments, staring at the empty space that had, a few moments ago, been Zim's position trying to figure out what was happening. Then, suddenly, the heard the doors behind them slam shut.

"I'm starting to get the suspicion that this 'as 'appened befo'!" Green said as he stared at the doors.

"Me too."

Meanwhile, back on the planet's surface, Sora was just beginning to wake up from her sleep. Groggily, she threw back the covers and swung her feet over the edge and sat them on the warm floor. As she awoke and the fog of dreams slowly cleared from her head, the distant memory of Byron's request came drifting back to her. She paused for a moment to completely register it in her mind, and then walked into the kitchen.

"Holy shit I'm hungry!" She said as she rummaged through the cabinet, after getting herself a fresh soda from the fridge. "Hmmm. Breakfast cubes? Ew! Corny horns? No.

Lucky Relics? I think I'll pass. Coco-balls? Tempting…" Sora said to herself as she searched aimlessly for something to eat in the house. Little did she know, however, a small figured loomed behind her. It watched intently in its cold unfeeling gaze; waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii lady!" Gir shrieked as loudly as his little, more than likely, metal lungs would allow.

"AHH!" Sora screamed as she turned around; breakfast cereal flying across the room. She looked down at her vocal assailant.

"Guten tag, fräulein!" Gir chirped happily. He stood before her covered in medals. They hung from his chest. They hung from his neck. They even hung from his high, black boots. And upon Gir's head, sat a large black and gold helmet with a huge spike on the crown.

"Gir?" Sora questioned, "Where have you been?"

"Ich habe Urlaub in Europa gemacht!" He laughed and clicked his heels together.

"Gir, are you speeking German!"

"Ja!"

"Well, quit it! It's getting on my nerves!" She yelled and clenched her fists at the little Imperialistic robot terror before her.

The once mighty conqueror of Europe hung his head and said, "Okay, lady. I's is sorry."

"It's Sora! SORA! My name isn't lady! It's Sora! What are you doing Gir?" Sora continued yelling, albeit her futile attempts to calm down.

"I just finished conquerin' Europe, lady!" Gir declared happily and clicked his boot heels a second time.

After slapping her forehead, Sora looked at Gir and asked very slowly, "Gir, wanna show me around some of Zim's base?"

"Okay, but then we're getting tacos!" He said and looked up at her with his tongue poking out. "They didn't have tacos in Deutschland!"

Sora shivered slightly at the thought of such foods. Almost all Mexican food gave her terrible stomach problems, such as explosive diarrhea. "Well okay."

"Yay!" He suddenly snapped into attention and said, "Follow me, miss!"

Sora nodded and followed behind him consumed with interest and curiosity.

And so, the grand tour began. And the grand tour took four hours and fifteen minutes to complete.

Gir looked up at Sora with a look of accomplishment and shouted, "And that's how EVERYTHING works!"

She smiled as the corner of her mouth started to twitch. "Th-thanks...Gir! ... now..." She crossed her eyes and screamed, "WHERE'S THE NEAREST BATHROOM!"

Gir looked up at the angry girl in dire confusion, "What's a bathroom?"

Meanwhile, Zim finally stood on Earthling soil again. Behind him, the two aliens were hogtied and squirming on the ground. Their ship was in ruins.

"Wow, that was actually pretty easy!" Zim declared as he hefted Dib up onto his shoulder again.

"Yeah," Blue said, "That was pre'ie easy! I'm soooo impwessed!"

"So am I," Green said. "So am I." The pair struggled on the ground and a pathetic attempt to clap.

"I know, Zim is amazing. SO very amazing!" He yelled with his fist in the air.

"Oh, indeed!" The two said happily.

"Victory for Zim!" He laughed as he walked away from the smoldering wreckage. At one point, Dib began moving again, which lead to a fit of shrieking and a savage beating. Needless to say, Dib wasn't conscious long. And so, Zim set of, again, to finish his and Byron's ingeniously evil plans!

For some reason, Zim thought he could hear dramatic music playing from somewhere unseen.

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A/N: Yay! Another sub par chapter completed! Victory for me! For MEEE! Hahaha! cough Um, please review. I really like it when you review. I especially like the one about the clenched bowels. Oh, by the way, I had an IM chat with JCV! Hahahaha! I am so cool! But anyway, um, please review. More is coming! So walk for your lives! Walk! Walk while there's still time!

Translations: Because even I don't speak German. (No offense to my readers in Deutschland! Keep driving your VW's with pride! And staaaaay out of Poland! shakes finger sternly )

"Guten tag, fräulein!" – Good day, miss.

"Ich habe Urlaub in Europa gemacht!" – I've been on vacation in Europe!

"Ja!" – Yes.

(Warning: This German is probably not grammatically correct! Results may vary. Garantee void in Switzerland! If you encounter problems while using this German, please stop imediately and consult your doctor and/or physician!)


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